A Gem of a Soul
by spuffy luvr
Summary: Ever wonder what would have happened if Spike hadn't lost the Gem of Amarra to Buffy? If he'd won that fight instead? Warning, this story starts out very dark. Evil vampire, after all. WINNER at the SunnyD Awards Round 27 for Best Angst, Runner up for Best NC-17 and Best Conventional Pairing. THANK YOU to all who voted!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios.

**Notes: **Much of the dialogue and action in this chapter is taken from S4, 'The Harsh Light of Day'. In places it diverges from the show because I combined the actual transcripts with the shooting scripts (if you've never read those you should - very illuminating). This chapter is mostly setting the scene for what is to come, so I'm pretty much copying canon. **The real fun begins in the next chapter.**

****This story is also available on Elysian Fields (WWW DOT Dark-Solace DOT org), but you have to be an adult and registered member to read it. You probably shouldn't be reading this anyways if you're under 17. I seem to understand how to format better over on that website, so the story is easier to look at (and read) if the formatting here bothers you.

I've always wondered what would have happened if Spike had kept the Gem of Amarra. If he had never been chipped. How might things have gone differently?

**Warning:** Spike starts out as an evil vampire. You know, raping, murdering, torturing, cruel. If you want your Spike to be fluffy and in love, stay away.

* * *

"You wanna dance?" Parker shouted at Buffy.

It was loud. Way too loud to do anything else. "Let's have a meaningful talk instead," she shouted back at him with a wry grin, the thumping bass all but obliterating her words. Parker laughed. _Points to me for being funny_, Buffy thought to herself as her date led her past the rowdy partiers and toward the dance floor.

Just as they reached the other dancers, she felt a tingle run up her spine. Looking at the man that had suddenly stopped in front of her, she found herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. _Oooh, pretty_, she thought.

But then she caught sight of the rest of Mr. Blue Eyes' face.

Spike.

She froze, surprised, and he stared back, equally astonished. Her eyes darted over to the slumped body he was supporting. Ah, yes, there it was, a gaping neck wound.

"Spike," she uttered, curling her lip in disgust. And holding up the other side of the poor victim was… Harmony?

_Spike__ is Harmony's boyfriend?_

"And Harmony!" she added derisively.

Harmony, not to be outdone, countered with a scornful, "Buffy. Hi. What a cute outfit - last year!"

"Well, this is interesting. It's, uh, sort of double date," Spike leered.

Buffy longed to stake the bleached menace, but with Parker standing right there, watching curiously, there wasn't much she could do – yet. If only she could catch him outside… "I think you two should go".

"But the fun's just starting - old friends, lots to drink…" Spike jiggled the boy he was holding up.

Buffy was furious. He was openly taunting her in front of her date, who naturally had no clue what was going on. "Looks like your friend there started the party a little early, huh?" Parker asked.

The vampire trained his eyes on Parker. "Say, let's have a look at the new boy," he said to Buffy as he appraised the boy next to her.

"Hi, I'm Parker…" He stuck out his hand, trying to go along despite the uncomfortable situation. Spike ignored him. Parker pulled his hand back, nonplussed.

"Hmm, I like him. He's got, what's the word? Vulnerability," Spike purred. Buffy flinched slightly. Now he was threatening her date? Argh!

She kept her eyes locked on the peroxide pest. "And you, with Harmony. Lose a bet?" she taunted.

Harmony let out an insulted, "Hey!" Neither of them looked at her. Both the vampire and the Slayer knew who they had to keep their eyes on.

"Actually, how we met, funny story, really -" Spike began, seemingly about to tell a charming anecdote, then he tossed the boy he was holding up onto Parker, hopped over a nearby couch, and ran.

Buffy sped after him, calling "Stay here!" to Parker over her shoulder. She burst outside and paused warily amidst the revelers at the bottom of the porch steps. Looking around, she saw the side of the house was dark and deserted. God, she hoped Spike was over there, where she could easily dust him without causing a scene. Why on earth had the idiot come back this time? Obviously things hadn't worked out with Drusilla.

She pulled out a stake as she crept cautiously down the side of the house, then caught sight of the vampire pressed into the darkened hedge. She slugged him and Spike returned the blow as he stepped out into the light. "Dru dump you again?" she taunted, striking him.

"Maybe I dumped _her_," Spike said and retaliated.

Harmony stood there, watching them trade punches. "She left him for a Fungus Demon. It's all he talks about some days…" she informed Buffy with a roll of her eyes, obviously put out that Spike wasn't over Drusilla.

"Harm," he growled, trying to shut her up. "We're going". He turned back to Buffy. "It isn't time yet," he said ominously.

Harmony's eyes lit up with the joy of being in on a secret. "Yeah, but as soon as we have the Gem of Amarra you're gonna be sooo sorry – what? OW!" That last bit was said to Spike as he grabbed her and hauled her away, still trying desperately to get her to shut up.

Buffy watched them slip off. Sighing in exasperation, she headed to a phone to give Giles the 411.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Buffy wasn't sure which was bothering her more – the lack of progress in finding Spike and foiling his evil plans, or the lack of phone call from Parker.

She decided it had to be the lack of phone call. After all, she was used to dealing with evil disappointing her. She was beginning to suspect that Parker was going to disappoint her too, and that was not something she was ready to face yet. She desperately hoped that he hadn't turned evil, at least. She'd hate to have to kill another boyfriend… or, well…

Not a boyfriend, based on the way he was leaning over, talking to that girl.

Buffy hurried up to him, trying to appear casual despite her rapid approach, but when she heard the brown-haired boy telling this girl the same confidences that he'd told her, about his father's death and his newfound desire to live life to the fullest, she couldn't keep the neediness out of her voice. "Parker?"

He turned to her, completely unfazed. After a quick introduction, he sent what was obviously meant to be his newest conquest off to her classes, and proceeded to give Buffy the monumental brush-off.

On the one hand Buffy wasn't completely surprised, considering that pesky lack of promised phone call, but on the other… Yeah, she was surprised. Seeing Parker face to face reminded her of the connection she had felt with him the other night. The connection she had thought he'd felt too.

The things he was saying to her, the way he made it clear that she was only a one-night stand to him (_Didn't you have fun? Well what else was it supposed to be?)_, made her feel silly, naïve, young, _used_. It hurt, and Buffy was almost forced to accept that she had been played. Especially when he tried to ask her if _she _really wanted a commitment. Well, yeah, duh – but obviously not the answer she was supposed to give.

"Look, I really have to go now." He walked away, and she shriveled up inside, unwanted once again.

But maybe she was reading him wrong. Or maybe she'd done something dumb, something silly to upset him, which would be easy to fix. She tried one more time, calling out as she chased him, "Parker, wait! I did this all wrong!"

"No, it's cool, we'll hook up later," he dismissed her, continuing on his way. Buffy stared after him, shoulders slumped.

* * *

Spike had been watching the scene between the Slayer and the boy with mild interest. She was different, this one, with her friends and her family and her snappy little comebacks, and it had proven to be his downfall, time and again. To see her rejected by that git, with her sodding little-girly pain, made her seem oh so-much-less than he'd built her up to be in his mind.

Defeating her wouldn't be so bloody hard after all. Especially with this lovely, lovely ring on his finger. And he could torture her a bit while he did it, twist the knife that young puppy had plunged into her for him. It wouldn't make up for all the suffering she'd caused him, but… It would certainly feel good.

Spike was standing practically right behind her, and she hadn't even noticed. He could feel the emotions rolling off of her; smell the churning blood bubbling through her. He grinned evilly, and spoke into her ear. "Well, that _was_ pathetic". When she turned, shocked, he punched her square in the face and sent her sprawling.

Delicious.

He watched as she squirmed on the ground, trying to regain her sense of balance. Like a bug he could crush under his boots right now, if he so chose. Spike wanted to make it last a tick though, enjoy the feeling of being the bloody victor this time around.

It was a good feeling, one she'd denied him for too long. Her and her stupid little pals. He could well afford to gloat; with the gem, he was all but invincible. He would play with her and then finally, finally suck her dry. He spoke, loosely, confidently, as she lay there, dumbstruck.

"Innit a fantastic day? Birds singing, squirrels making lots of rotten squirrels, sun beaming down in a nice, non-fatal way. It's very exciting, I can't wait to find out if I freckle".

The little chit pulled a plant stake away from a newly planted tree and came at him, punching and kicking like a right firecracker, but Spike noticed she was off. That tiny piece of information thrilled him. Truth be told, even with the gem, he wasn't completely sure she couldn't defeat him. The luck had always been on her side.

But now it was on his. He'd caught her as she was hurt, as she was vulnerable, and it was going to make his victory not only tastier, but a little bit easier too. She knocked him down and he leapt back up and let her stake him.

It hurt like a right bugger, but hey, here he was, not dust. His glee ratcheted up another notch at the look on her face.

"Ooh. Do it again," he said, making it sound dirty as he wiggled the stake then let her pull it out. "It tickles. You know, in the good way".

"The gem".

"Oh yeah. The Gem of Amarra," he gloated, holding up his hand to show her, then striking her to the ground with it. "Official sponsor of my killing you," he added as he went into game face.

Buffy came at him again, but he was ready. They traded blows, over and over. He'd knock her down, then she'd spring back up and kick him away. He rammed her into a pole several times, and dropped her onto a glass table. _Now, this is glorious_, he thought, _fists and fangs and all out brawling, and me coming out on top._ "Getting tired Slayer?" It was a rhetorical question. She was just laying there while he paced over her, gloating.

But the little girl wouldn't admit it. She dragged herself back up. "I'm okay. How about you?"

He had to confess, he liked her style. Quipping in the face of death. She was so feisty, and though he hated her for ruining things with his dark princess, he was glad for the dance the girl had given him. It made it so much more momentous to know that he'd be the one to kill this seemingly un-killable Slayer. His reputation would be untouchable, and Drusilla would come back to him, giggling madly over his accomplishment.

He salivated slightly, cock hardening, imagining the wicked things they'd get up to when he caught up to his princess and gave her the news. They'd quarreled in the past, but the making up had always made the quarrel worthwhile. Spike suspected this would be a reunion to top them all. They'd paint the whole bloody world red, they would.

Buffy was panting hard, waiting for an opening. "Sun in your eyes?" she asked.

He squinted at the sun. "A little. Awfully bright, disorienting… Oh, no, I lied. I'm fine".

He threw a hard punch at her, and she staggered, slow to come back. He could hear a heartbeat moving in being him, thumping like a frightened rabbit. Without breaking stride, he whirled and saw the whelp that followed the Slayer around, panting at her heels. He should have killed the boy last year, but he'd been too deep in a bender to think properly. He'd rectify it now. Convenient, it was, the boy coming right to him. He wouldn't have to hunt him later.

The lad ran at him. Spike grabbed him and sent him flying into a lamp post, then spun back to the Slayer.

She wasn't moving much. He could see in her eyes that she was about set to give up. Well, that was no fun. He wasn't ready to finish dancing with her just yet. He cocked his head, gave her a leer, and rubbed his hand down his belly in a lascivious manner. Maybe he could rile her into playing some more.

* * *

Buffy watched Spike's hand with disgust. Was that a _bulge_ in his pants? Ewww. She remembered how Faith had talked about getting off on the fighting. It was true that she did too, sometimes, but not this time. Spike was too _ewww_. And she was too _owww_.

Things were not going well, and Buffy couldn't help wondering if this was finally going to be it. If the Gem of Amarra wouldn't let her kill the bastard, how on earth was she going to stop him?

Spike stalked toward her, hand almost to his crotch. "So you let Parker take a poke, eh? Didn't seem like you knew each other that well. What exactly did it take to pry apart the Slayer's dimpled knees?"

That was low. And gross. Trust Spike to prey upon her vulnerability, make her feel even worse. She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, did her best to keep the ache hidden. "You're a pig, Spike". He gave her a roundhouse kick that sent her back to the ground.

"Did he play the sensitive lad and get _you_ to seduce _him_? Good trick if the girl's thick enough to buy it".

Well, yes, apparently she was. And how did he do that? You'd think he was the psychic one, not Drusilla. She rose up and tried to kick him, but he blocked it and knocked her down again. Ow.

"Wonder what you did wrong. Too strong? Did you bruise the boy?" he said knowingly. "Whatever, guess you're not worth a second go. Come to think of it, seems like someone told me as much".

Buffy reeled in pain, both physical and mental. He was taking everything she feared and holding it up in the harsh light of day for her viewing displeasure.

"Who was that?" he pretended to wonder.

_Please don't say it, please don't remind me_.

Too late. "Oh, yeah. Angel". He pinned her with his cold yellow eyes.

Bastard. Rage coursed through her, giving her a second wind.

This time, when she raced at him she got in a hard blow, throwing him off balance. His face registered shock, but then she didn't see anything else, only felt her fists and feet connecting, brutalizing, trying to return the pain he'd given her.

Suddenly she had him trapped, arm wrenched behind him, hand with the ring clenched between hers. If she could get it off, this would be over. Bye-bye Spikey.

He tried to buck her off. "Take it off me this way and we both burn!"

"Really?" she said. She doubted it. Spike was a terrible liar, odd though the trait was for a creature of evil. "Let's see".

She made to wrench the ring off his finger, but suddenly her grip on him was loose, the back of his head flying at her face.

Then it was dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:**

Disclaimer: All hail Joss Whedon.

Warning: Spike's a disgusting pervert.

If you're new to the party (just reading it now as opposed to when I was posting it chapter by chapter), I would still love to hear your thoughts and reviews!

* * *

Spike looked around. The Slayer was crumpled at his feet, the boy over to the side in the shadows. Nobody else nearby. Who to eat first… such hard choices.

Well, no, it was simple. He didn't fancy drinking the boy at all. The Slayer, though, smelled intoxicating, redolent of power. He hadn't had Slayer blood in a century and his fangs itched to sink themselves into her. The inert body lifted easily in his grasp, and he pulled her head back to expose her neck. Spike studied the large scar that marred the otherwise perfect column.

_Angelus_.

Interesting. Maybe that was the reason the wanker had left town. He shrugged and sank his fangs right over top of the mark, obliterating it, and drank deep.

Her flavor exploded in his mouth, like nothing he had ever tasted before. Sublime – sunshine, light and purity, so sweet, so good. The blood seemed to scorch through him, sun's rays and holy water combined, but he couldn't stop, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He didn't remember the other Slayer tasting like this and suspected it had to do with the girl herself.

Dru would be on him for days if she could sample this. Spike wrenched away, looking at the blood trickling and pooling at the base of the Slayer's neck. It was akin to a gourmet meal at the finest restaurant – not something to dine on alone. He wanted to share this epicurean delight with his dark princess, but how? She wasn't here; she'd been in Atlanta when he'd seen her last.

He shifted in his jeans as the Slayer's limp form rubbed up against him. Sod it all, he had such a cockstand right now he could barely think. One thing was certain, though. If there was a sure way to win back Dru's heart, a taste of this Slayer's blood was guaranteed to be it.

Making a decision, Spike slung Buffy over his shoulder, and with a quick, hard kick to the now-moaning boy's head, strode away to where his car was parked.

* * *

Buffy ached all over, and her neck felt like it had been ripped apart. Groaning, she tried to bring her hand up to her neck and found she couldn't move it. Or her other hand. Or her legs. _What the hell_? She tried to open her eyes, but they felt glued shut. Her whole body felt glued shut, weak, drained. She whimpered.

A sibilant whisper echoed around her. "There she is. Gonna come back to me now?"

_Spike_.

So, good news, she obviously wasn't dead. Bad news… she obviously wasn't dead. Why on earth not? What did he have in store for her? She attempted to open her eyes again, and her eyelids creaked apart. The sun shone brightly, bathing everything in luminescent detail. What she saw made her wish they'd stayed shut.

Spike stood over her, pants undone, fisting his… gah… penis. Massive penis. GAH! She closed her eyes quickly, trying to block out the sight.

"S'Okay, Slayer. You can have a look if you want to. Don't you want to see what a real man looks like?" She could hear the leer in his voice.

"Spike, stop!" It was a nice attempt to sound commanding, but she was so weak it came out breathless. She turned her head to side, and opened her eyes back up to take stock of her surroundings. Buffy found herself in the back of what she presumed was his car, with Spike blocking the open door. Where ever they were, it was very quiet. She struggled, trying to find the weakness in the duct tape that bound her, but he'd trussed her up good and tight.

"Oh, no. Don't think I will". He leaned in, breathed intimately into her face. His breath was surprisingly warm and sweet-smelling. She shut her eyes again, willing him to go away. "Your blood… top notch aphrodisiac, it is. Watching you squirm, all tied up and pretty, just adds to the fun". He panted a little as he said it, and Buffy suddenly panicked, realizing that a lot worse could be in store for her.

He must have sensed what she was thinking because he said, "Don't worry, sweet thing. I'll not touch you like that. For now. Just needed to take the edge off so I can drive". He hissed, and under that, she could hear the sound of his hand sliding up and down.

Buffy's face scrunched up in disgust. "You should have just killed me Spike. You'll regret this".

"Maybe. Me and this pretty little ring say otherwise. You're mine, now, Slayer, and while I enjoy watching you trying to suss your way out of this, you'd better get used to the idea. You'll be much happier in the long run".

Snorting, she asked incredulously, "Happy with you?" She made the mistake of looking at him as she said it and got an eyeful of his cock, throbbing and weeping in his hand.

He curled his tongue. "Baby, I'm gonna have you begging for it before you know it".

When she opened her mouth to retort, she was shocked to find she couldn't do anything but choke.

Spike stood grinning over her, ribbons of thick white cum trailing from his rapidly deflating prick down to her face.

She spluttered and spat.

"Ta, luv. Glad it was good for you too". She glared at him with impotent fury. "'Course, I don't want to be listening to you fuss while I'm driving, so, sleep tight". With a cuff across the head she was out once more.

* * *

Spike lit up a fag and weighed his options. His original plan had been to maintain the Slayer in a half-drained state in order to keep her docile. Or, at least manageable. But. _Fuck_. He wouldn't be able to manage _himself_ in this permanent state of arousal. He needed a different way to keep her under control other than drinking her blood, otherwise he'd be pulling over for a wank every five minutes.

He debated just finishing her off now, but quickly cast that thought aside. He wanted to share this Slayer's blood, share this feeling of euphoria with Dru. He felt certain that once his dark princess saw the present he'd brought her, shared in the Slayer's blood with him, everything would be set to rights. No more barmy talk about how the sodding Slayer stood between them.

The girl in the back let out a slight moan, and Spike's hand drifted down to his already tumescent length. Bloody hell, wasn't this was a pain in the arse? Maybe he should go have a shag with Harmony. She'd forgive his staking her quick enough once she saw the fun he had in mind. But then he thought of having to listen to the nattering bint and deflated slightly.

She'd been a bit of alright last night, once she'd finally agreed to the chains. He'd stuffed a gag in her mouth soon as he could, and the memory of that instantly made him hard once more. Yeah, if he could do that again…

Or, there was a nice warm cunt right at hand. His cock throbbed bigger than ever at the thought. He'd wanted to put it to the Slayer since the moment he saw her, no doubts there. It was how he intended to finish her off: buried to the hilt, cock and fangs. Whether she was crying in pleasure, fear, or a mix of both at the time didn't much matter to him.

_In pleasure might be good_, he thought. Despite what he'd said about that Parker git, he was more than sure that a satisfied Slayer would be worth a second go and then some. _No need to kill her right away, yeah? Have your fun for awhile first. Feisty, she is, could probably keep up with me._

Put the piss right to Angelus, it would, knowing Spike had had his girl over and over. Just the way Angelus had done with Dru. The thought made him smile.

Stopping the car, he got out and admired the sunny day. Things were finally looking up. Finding this ring was likely the best thing that had ever happened to him. Well, no, best thing after being turned. He opened the back door once more, imagined tearing the Slayer's clothes off and taking her right there, naked, her face already covered in his spunk. It certainly had its appeal. On the other hand, he'd have to untie her some, and that was just asking for trouble. No, no sense in taking chances; better to do it when he had a big bed he could chain her to, spread-eagled, and completely under his power.

The mental image caused him to lose control, and his legs shook a little with the aftershocks. At least he'd have a few minutes of relief now. He ought to do some planning while he still could think.

Right. Drinking Slayer's blood continuously _not_ going to be a good idea. He'd need sedatives then. Elephant tranquilizers would be his best bet. He decided to head on over to Willie's, see what he could scrounge up.

When he walked into Willie's from out of broad daylight, every single demon stopped and stared in wonder and fear. Oh yeah, a fella could get used to this. If he wasn't so anxious to catch up with his Drusilla, he'd love to have a go playing sodding Master of the Hellmouth. Maybe he'd come back with Dru once he'd found her. After all, there were a whole lot of little Slayer lapdogs that deserved a good slaughtering.

An hour later, Spike left the bar with a handful of sedatives and a whole new plan.

* * *

Buffy woke to the feel of something sharp pricking the inside of her elbow followed by a flood of unnatural warmth shooting though the veins of her arm, and then Spike's voice sing-songing. "Come on, pet, time to rise and shine, can't sleep the day away!"

Feeling too woozy to open her eyes, she lay there, doing her best to breathe shallowly. It stunk in the back seat, like whiskey and… and… crotch. _Oh God_. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation, doubly so when she realized just why her cheek seemed glued to the ancient leather seat. Now that she was fully aware, she could feel it all over her - in her hair, across her eyelids, and in her mouth.

She would kill that vampire if it was the last thing she did.

"I'm going to tear you apart, Spike," she threatened, noting with satisfaction that her voice sounded stronger than before.

"Maybe, Slayer, but not today. Up an' at 'em". He hauled her up with one hand, her sweaty, slimy skin detaching from the leather with a sucking sound.

Buffy opened her eyes, noting blearily that it was dark, and that they were in the deserted parking lot of a motel in… L.A.? "Why are we in Los Angeles?"

"Gonna pay a visit to your Sweetie Bear," Spike replied placidly. "And I needed supplies," he added, waving the syringe he was holding with his other hand.

Buffy suddenly remembered the sensation that had woken her. "What did you do to me?" she gasped, horrified.

Spike contemplated the syringe. "Fascinating tidbit I picked up while having a pint today," he began. "Did you know the Slayer's Watcher actually _drugged_ her last year, depriving her of her powers, then sent her off to almost certain death?" Miming surprise at her presence, he glanced at her. "Yeah, guess you did. Picked me up some of those Cruciamentum drugs. Thought they might come in handy, what with having a Slayer to tote around and all". He regarded her, waiting for her reaction.

Buffy remembered the sick feeling of panic she'd had last year when she'd realized her powers were gone. She almost thought she could feel the poison working its way through her now. _Buck up,_ she told herself. _Remember how you totally kicked Kralik's ass without any powers? And he was way crazier than Spike. Just have to look for your opening. Since…_

"Um, not that I'm complaining, but why haven't you killed me yet?" she asked in real confusion.

"Got some old friends we're gonna pay a visit on first. You n'me, we're going on a road trip. Won't it be fun?"

"Only if I get to pick the radio station," she muttered. "Where?"

"East Coast, luv. Got a present to give to an old flame". He leaned in closer, pressed his mouth against the side of her head as if imparting a deep secret. His words slid into her ear as his mouth brushed against it. "Going to feed you to Drusilla".

She jerked away, but barely, wobbling precariously thanks to the tape that bound her ankles together. Between the loss of blood and the drugs he'd given her, she was weak as a kitten. "What, you think that skank will take you back then?" Spike glared at her, and she rubbed it in. "You're not enough to satisfy her anymore, remember? She'll take your present and be riding the next slimy demon quicker than -".

Spike backhanded her to the ground and stood quivering over her, snarling in rage. "I'd shut yer gob now if I were you. Dru's not going to mind one bit if her present arrives…" He paused, feral yellow eyes raking her over, "…a bit worse for the wear." He licked his lips, slid his hand over the bulge in his black jeans.

Buffy shivered, his intentions clear. Dying was one thing, but that…. No.

East coast, he'd said. Even if he drove practically straight through, it would give her several days. She'd find an opening, find a way, and she'd kill him. Somehow. She decided to placate him for now.

She kept her eyes down, submissive, even though it grated on every nerve. "Can… can we go inside? I really need to pee".

Spike hauled her up from the filthy ground of parking lot, anger gone. "Yeah, come on," he said, almost solicitous. God, he was weird. Suddenly, he was slicing through the duct tape around her ankles with a knife he'd pulled from his duster pocket. "No funny stuff now. You hear?"

Wavering on her feet, Buffy tried to gently work the kinks out of her legs. Definitely no funny stuff to be had at the moment. "Yeah," she responded sullenly. Spike pulled a key out of one of his pockets and tromped to the nearest motel door, hand wrapped around her arm and dragging her unwilling feet along. Door open, he continued to the bathroom with her, then let go.

She stood there, helpless. "I… I can't get my pants down with my hands tied," she mumbled, reddening.

Spike had the good grace to look flustered, at least. She shook her head. _So, rape, no problem, but helping me pee embarrasses him. Great._ "Spike. I'm weak from blood loss and whatever the hell you injected me with. I can barely stand. You can cut my hands free, I'm no threat to you right now".

"Know you better than that Slayer. Yeah, I'm in control, but doesn't mean I'm gonna trust you. You're a right tricky one, that's what makes you the best Slayer I've ever fought".

Eyes widening in surprise, Buffy flushed at his praise. "Um, thanks, I guess. Look, watch me if you want, but please, let me pull my own pants down".

He blew out a breath. "Bloody hell. Yeah, alright. I'm staying right here though".

Freed, she rubbed her wrists, trying to get the circulation going again, and slyly testing out just how weak she felt. Under the pretense of stretching, she twisted around, assessing the shabby, over-bright bathroom for anything she might use as a weapon. Nothing obvious.

Spike kept his eyes glued to her the whole time. "Could you…?" she motioned for him to look away, wanting to at least pee with a modicum of privacy. He didn't move. "Fine!" she huffed, and as rapidly as possible, drew her pants down and sank to the toilet, hunching over to try to cover herself. As discretely as she could, she wiped and reversed the process.

The vampire stepped toward her with the aim of taping her up again, but Buffy decided to press her luck. "In these modern times we wash our hands after. Cuts down on disease. It's a new discovery". Spike rolled his eyes, but he motioned for her to go ahead, so she washed her hands, and then used one of the folded white washcloths to clean her face and hair as best she could.

"This is disgusting, you know," she hissed, her ire returning.

Spike shrugged, uncaring. "Though it was a good look for you, myself". Buffy couldn't see him in the speckled mirror, but she glared daggers anyway.

She desperately wanted to take a shower, but didn't think the indignity of stripping under his gaze, or worse, was worth it just yet. Maybe tomorrow he'd have relaxed around her a bit and would allow her more privacy.

Holding her hands out meekly towards him, she allowed him to tape her back up. In her mind, it was a small victory, because her hands were now in front, rather than behind. When she'd sat down on one of the double beds in the room, he bound her legs back up, then handed her a bag of chips and an opened soda. She scrunched her nose at the lack of nutrition, then tried to be grateful that he was bothering to feed her at all.

Buffy stared aimlessly at the TV show Spike was watching as she awkwardly reached her tied hands into the bag and fed herself crunched chips. Her mind worked furiously, desperately pondering how to get out of this mess. On the other bed, Spike worked his way through a bag of flaming hot Doritos. She rolled her eyes, wondering at the oddity that was Spike, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When the Slayer was asleep, and sure to stay that was thanks to the hefty dose of sedatives he'd put in the drink he'd given her, Spike secured her to the bed with rope and slipped out into the night.

He stood in the parking lot, attuning himself to the surroundings. Spending the day in the sun had been a right lark, but he was still a creature of the night. The darkness caressed his skin like a lover's touch, soothed his jangled nerves.

Lighting up a fag, he hopped into his car and sped off. He had things to see to before the morrow came. It wouldn't do to bollix up his plans by being over-confident. Spike knew himself well enough to realize his propensity to cock things up in the heat of the moment. Despite his possession of the Gem of Amarra, the Slayer was just as clever as he, and had foiled him often enough that it paid to be ultra cautious.

And he had some tasty plans. He wanted to be sure to see them through.

* * *

(Here you should insert the scene where Spike watches Angel from the rooftop and mocks him and his nancy-boy hair gel he likes so much. Make appropriate modifications for the fact that Spike has the ring already. I didn't want to type it all out. But really, how could that not have still happened?)


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes:

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon and I play with them for fun not profit.

* * *

Buffy's head pounded and her mouth tasted like it was full of cotton. She felt as though she was trying to drag herself up a long, dark tunnel. When she finally worked her eyes open, she was greeted with the sight of Spike fast asleep on the bed across from her.

He'd pulled the curtains shut, but not so tight that they didn't let in a beam of sunlight, enough for Buffy to ascertain both that it had to be late morning and that Spike slept naked. The covers had been pushed to the side, and he was sprawled across the bed on his back, head resting on one crooked arm, the thin corner of a dingy white sheet barely covering his middle.

Not, Buffy supposed, that it mattered much. She'd already been treated to that sight yesterday.

After a brief struggle, it became clear that he'd tied her down so completely that she couldn't even turn her head. She was on her stomach, arms beneath her, head turned to the side that faced Spike, sheets and ropes pinning her to the bed. Her muscles immediately began to cramp and scream in protest, aware that she could do nothing about it. Maybe meditating would help. She closed her eyes and tried flexing and relaxing each muscle group while slowing her breathing, just as Giles had taught her to do.

The last time she had been drugged with Cruciamentum drugs.

Still, it helped to quell the rising panic. Giles. She wondered if he knew what had happened to her. She had no idea if Spike had killed Xander or not, but she desperately hoped not, for her friend's sake as well as her own. Xander would at least know that Spike had her, and if he was still alive, then so would Giles. There was nothing more she could do than hope they were coming up with a plan to rescue her.

Because damn it all to hell, much as it pained her to admit it, Buffy needed rescuing. Between being drugged and hogtied, she was helpless.

She reminded herself that there was sure to be an opportunity to save herself, if she were just patient. Spike intended to drag her across the country, and he was guaranteed to slip up at some point. His plans were never very well thought out.

With nothing else to do, Buffy figured she may as well take the time to study him. Maybe she'd be able to observe something that would help her. After several minutes of staring at him, she hadn't learned much beyond, one: the term 'slept like the dead' applied to him, what with his lack of breathing or movement and all, and two: he was, objectively speaking, incredibly beautiful. He was thin, but well-muscled, not scrawny like she'd assumed. His body bulged and rippled in all the right places, especially his abs and arms. His skin was perfect, pale but not pasty. His face was angelic in sleep, and she already knew just how pretty his eyes were, even though they were closed right now. _Why are the cute ones always evil?_ she pouted to herself.

Her eyes were drawn back to what the thin sheet covered. Memories of what he'd done and what he'd suggested he would do to her flooded her mind, and any smidgen of attraction she felt for him turned back into raging disgust. In that instant, his beauty turned ugly, marred by the evil he was.

And unfortunately, the only thing in her current line of sight was his naked form.

She needed something else to stare at. Buffy found that she could move her head slightly, and so she tried to look around, but beyond your typical bland and dreary motel interior there was nothing of interest to see. She attempted to amuse herself by imagining all the various ways she could turn the objects in her line of vision into weapons, but that didn't last nearly long enough.

Eventually, her bladder started cramping along with the rest of her muscles. She'd have to wake Spike up, but he appeared to still be out cold. The observation gave her a new game to play. She'd see just what it took to wake him up. It would be good to know how soundly he slept, in case he didn't secure her quite so well next time.

She was up to yelling his name before he stirred, suddenly sitting bolt upright in bed with a wild-eyed look of panic. One glance around the room though, and he calmed down. "Give it a rest, would you? Let a bloke sleep".

"I have to go to the bathroom," Buffy ground out. She was desperate by this time. He'd taken forever to wake up.

"Bloody hell, again? Can't you hold it or something"

"Sorry. I'm only human, and I've been holding it for hours. If I don't go _right now_, I'll end up going in my pants, and then you'll have to smell it the whole time you keep me, since I don't have any other clothes".

Spike blinked slowly, taking this in. "Humans are disgusting".

"Uh-huh, because being evil is a fair trade for not needing to use the toilet. _Now_!" she finished with a tinge of desperation.

He stood up, and the sheet fell aside. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as he came towards her, realizing that he wasn't going to bother covering up. "Pants?" she squeaked.

"Thought you were desperate, Slayer, no time to wait," he grumbled, loosening her bonds. "'Sides, may as well get used to it. I've nothing to be ashamed of, and I don't intend to change my habits to protect your precious innocence. Think things with dear Parker made protecting your innocence a moot point anyhow," he snickered.

"Could you be any more of a pig?" she snapped.

She wasn't tied to the bed anymore, but tape still encircled her wrists and ankles. He yanked her upright, so her face was level with his crotch. She whipped her eyes up to his, away from the bobbing _thing_ in her face. Eyes were hooded, pupils darkened with anger, he grabbed her hair and pulled her forward while thrusting his hips toward her. Something hard, something she didn't want to think about, rammed her in cheek with enough force to bruise. She gasped.

"Yeah, I think I could," he chuckled lowly, but then he hauled her to her feet and marched her to the bathroom without any further ado.

Once there, he wrapped a towel around his waist, plucked the knife off the counter, and cut her bindings away. "Look, do your thing, then have a bit of a wash-up in the shower, okay? It'll make you feel better. Smell better too". He tossed the knife out of the bathroom, far away from her reach.

His mood changes threw her for a loop, especially when he was almost a decent… well, not human being, but decent. Not that she was going to complain. She used the toilet gratefully, not caring this time that he was watching her. "Is this some kind of kink for you, watching me pee?"

He snorted. "Not bloody likely. Told you pet, I've learned I can't be too careful around you". She sat there, fidgeting. "Come on, into the shower with you. I'll be seeing the goodies sooner or later, so may as well get it over with".

The fact that he said it clinically, without a trace of a leer, made up her mind. She quickly stood and turned her back to him, then stripped and jumped into the shower, pulling the aged curtain closed. When she had the temperature right, she stepped into the spray. Any thoughts that she might have a little privacy were dashed when Spike stepped into the shower behind her.

Buffy turned her back to him. "You've got to be kidding. What am I going to do in here besides get wet?" Spike choked. "God, you're disgusting". She thought about punching him, but in her weakened state, she knew she'd be doing little more than making a token protest. No, better to lull him into thinking she would play nice, that he had nothing to fear from her, and have her shower. Despite her attempts at cleaning last night, she was still crusty with… well, she didn't want to think about that. A shower was an outright necessity at the moment.

"Hand me the shampoo?" she asked as politely as she could manage. She heard the snick of the cap, and a moment later felt his hands in her hair. She froze, tense, but he did nothing more than lather her hair, and quite well at that, she had to admit. If it wasn't for the fact of who he was, what he was, she'd probably be making porno-worthy sounds right now. "Ooookay," she said hesitatingly.

"Have to admit, now this is a kink," Spike rumbled, brushing up against her to show her how much. Buffy pulled away as far as she could, and Spike let her, only touching her hair and scalp. "Love your hair, love the way it bounces when we fight," he breathed. "Loved seeing it glowing in the sunlight, so golden and shining, like an angel's halo".

She didn't know what to say. From anybody else, she'd take it as a compliment. From the vampire with a raging hard-on behind her, it was only creepy and disturbing. She didn't want to encourage him, but on the other hand, she didn't want to upset him either. He'd threatened force often enough, and she was completely vulnerable right now. She settled for standing as still as possible, giving him the cold shoulder without actively antagonizing him.

"Rinse off then pet, and we'll do the conditioner". She complied with as little movement as possible, and heard another snick, followed by the feel of Spike working the conditioner in.

"Shove over while that sets, so I can have a go in the water, alright?" His hands were on her hips, guiding her movements as he pulled her out of the way and slipped past her into the spray. His body brushed against hers, slippery wet and as warm as any human from the heat of the shower. Repressing a shudder at the touch, Buffy tried to turn away so she didn't have to look at him, despite the fact that he now held her upper arm with one hand, preventing her from turning around completely. With the water streaming down his body, his enormous penis jutting upwards, she had to admit he really didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Still, she didn't want to see it, didn't want to admire him at all.

Face averted, she groused, "Doesn't that thing ever go away?"

Spike chuckled, and said sultrily, "'M all man, sweetheart. Just think of the time I could show you. I'd have you screaming, I promise". She glanced at him involuntarily. His eyes promised untold pleasure, and the way his tongue flexed and curled gave an indication of the uses he would put it to.

"In disgust," Buffy muttered, but she still couldn't help the little shiver than ran through her. He was pure sensuality, and her own body responded just enough that she was thoroughly mortified with herself.

* * *

Spike knew he was playing with fire, teasing her like this when she was unbound and could conceivably strike back, but he was having too much fun to care. He could smell a hint of the arousal she was fighting, and her face had shown just the slightest flicker of interest, enough to convince him that he'd be able to take her willingly if he were patient enough. He'd shag her senseless either which way, but decided it would be sweeter if she came to him. Asked him for it. It would be easy enough to force her, so it didn't hold as much interest as getting her to capitulate. He'd have truly dominated the Slayer then, not just her body, but also her mind and soul. What better way to take revenge on her?

He wondered how her blood would taste as she wriggled beneath him in pleasure, golden hair fanned out, begging him with that perfect little mouth. Yeah, that was the way to kill her. The picture in his mind was an acute contrast to the way she was now, half turned away, hunched and miserable.

Even so, she was still a heady sight. The spray of the water had her warm and wet and glistening, and her scent was strong in the humid enclosed space. He finished washing himself one-handed, then used his free hand to stroke himself, the other one still preventing the Slayer from turning away. He traded places with her again, never letting go with either hand.

When she hesitated, then reached her hands up to lift her wet locks and rinse the conditioner out despite the picture she knew she'd present to him, he groaned and tugged harder. Thanks to his hand encircling her arm, she accidentally pulled him closer as she raised her arms, and she stood stock still, eyes screwed shut, face panicked, breasts heaving. Spike could hear her heart fluttering away, like a little bird.

He almost took her right then, fantasy be damned. With a massive effort of self-control, he released her and stepped back, still stroking. "It's ok, luv. Won't touch you till you ask me for it. Have your rinse". She shuddered in relief, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the spray from the shower as she quickly finished rinsing.

When she was done, he handed her the motel soap, wrinkling his nose at the cheap fragrance. Turning completely away from him, she washed herself quickly.

The sight was too much, and his release came, washing away down the drain. Convenient. As his spunk swirled away, so did his sense of equanimity.

"Turn the water off," he growled, unsure of why he'd settled for a wank instead just taking what he wanted. His plans for shagging a willing Slayer to her death sounded satisfying, but Spike had no sodding clue why he was suddenly fixated on the idea. A human's consent or desire had never much mattered to him before.

Even more disturbing were the poncy, love-struck words he'd spoken while washing her hair. These were the sorts of things he should only say to Drusilla. Not the way he wanted to talk to the sodding Slayer. Even now, he wanted to dry and brush her hair for her, feel it trailing through his fingers. _Get a bleeding grip, mate_.

He roughly handed her a towel, all civility gone in the face of his disquiet. "Get done quickly, or I'll tie you up bare-assed, got it?" he snapped, wrapping a towel around himself.

Soon as she was done, he seized her angrily and hauled her back to the main room, her legs tangling as she tried to keep up. The moment he turned his head to the side, looking for where he'd dropped the length of rope, Buffy yanked free from his grip and flung herself onto the bed where the knife had come to rest, sliding across the comforter and ending in a crouch on the opposite side from him.

"Bloody bitch!" he snarled, furious at himself for having lost his grip on her so easily. "You know you can't kill me with that little sticker, Slayer. All you're gonna do is make me angry. S'not like you're gonna be able to get away from me".

Her eyes stayed glued on him, calculating. "I don't know Spikey. I'm thinking I might be able to get some damage in before you take it away, and that would be ok with me. Being a meek prisoner isn't really agreeing with me". She adjusted her position as he moved towards her. "You do realize that I survived the Cruciamentum, right? I don't need super-strength to kill you".

He snorted, "Can't kill me, you moron. Gem on my finger makes it impossible".

"I'll settle for fucking you up then," she snarled and launched herself at him, knife headed straight for his eye.

"Bloody _buggering FUCK!"_ he screamed as it penetrated, the Slayer's full weight knocking him down and driving the knife in up to hilt. He felt the blade pulling back out with a wet sucking motion, but as it withdrew, the wound healed up right behind. He had perfect stereovision of the bitch's shocked face.

"You'll pay for that, you _cunt_!" he roared, launching her across the room. She hit the wall with a thud and crumpled in a heap, unmoving. Watching her warily, he raised his hand to his eye, prodding gently, then kissed the ring in gratitude. Bleeding brilliant.

* * *

When Buffy awoke this time, she knew she'd made a grave error. Not only was she trussed tighter than a Christmas goose, but he'd tied her up so as to make it _hurt_. Her arms were wrenched behind her back, the ropes cutting off circulation. Her feet were tied together, and then bent backwards, touching her ass, and worse, held in place by a rope than ran from her ankles to around her neck. Any movement tightened the rope around her neck, threatening to crush her windpipe. Arching her back killed, but relieved the pressure, allowing her to breathe more freely.

She sensed rather than saw Spike approach her. He cocked his head and observed her, blue eyes glittering malevolently. "Now, little girl, I warned you. I appreciate your determination. Even admire it. But this is my show". He stalked closer, moving like the predator he was, and bonelessly melted down so his face was inches from hers. "You have a choice. You're going to die, no choice about that. But before you do…" he trailed the knife in his hand down her cheek, and she flinched as it cut into her. "You can fight me, and spend your days being tied up and tortured. Can't say as I mind that choice". Spike leaned forward and licked the blood that was welling on her cheek like it was a delicacy. "Or you can behave, and though you'll still be tied up," he leaned back, "we can at least make it… _pleasurable,_" he finished seductively, eyes hooded.

"I'm going to make choice number three – no tying, no dying".

Spike shrugged, then gagged her and moved away as a knock sounded at the door. "I'll let you think about it". Opening it, he motioned entrance to the knocker. "Please, come in while I fetch my wallet". He turned to Buffy. "Darling, dinner's here!"

The delivery boy who had entered gasped as he saw Buffy and tried to back out, but Spike had already shut the door, blocking his escape. The boy didn't even have time to scream before the vampire had sunk his fangs into him, sucking him dry.

Buffy glared at him ineffectually, her gaze murderous. She _hated_ being helpless. Smirking, Spike let the body fall to the floor, then casually wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. "Not as tasty as you, luv, but he'll do".

He picked up the bag of food the boy had dropped and walked to her, setting it on the bed by her head. "I had planned on feeding you, but I think it'll be better to wait, hmmm? Don't want to reward your bad behavior," he tutted.

Despite her condition, the smell of the food reminded her that she had barely eaten in the last 24 hours. Her stomach grumbled loudly, but she refused to make a sound. Spike grinned widely, then settled himself on the other bed. He turned the TV on and ignored her completely, flipping the channels until he found something he liked.

About an hour later, he turned it back off. Buffy had closed her eyes while she waited, and she opened them again at the sudden lack of noise. Spike picked up a syringe, flicked it, and brought it to her. After a moment's consideration, he plunged it into a vein on her wrist. _More Cruciamentum drugs_. He subsequently looked her over critically, shook his head, and stood.

Without a word he rifled through the dead boy's pockets, emptied the cash out of his wallet and his work pouch, then took his keys and left.

A few minutes later, he was back, triumphantly brandishing an antique looking hairbrush with a silver handle. "Thought I had one of these in the trunk," he said mildly. "Now, let's get you fixed up. You don't want to go out looking like that do you?"


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes:

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to Joss Whedon, not me. Story for entertainment purposes only.

**Warning**: I just want to point out (so I don't get angry readers) - this is going to be long. And it is not going to be easy. I wondered how Spike would manage to become the vamp he is without ever having been chipped (and not losing the ring is part of that). There are lots of stories that deal with an unchipped Spike, and most of them have one of two ways of getting Spuffy going. One is claim fics, which I enjoy, but it's not really canon. The other is what I like to call the Nautibitz way - the sex is so damn good Buffy can't help but love Spike back. Fun, but not in keeping with how their relationship played out.

So I'm trying to get there in a realistic way, and it seems to me that Spuffy love with an unchipped, unsouled Spike is a hard sell. You may disagree with me - I know there are a lot of fans who think Buffy should have returned Spike's love as far back as S5 - but I don't think she can. It's not her fault that James Marsters plays a hurt Spike so beautifully that we all want to hug him and slap her.

As a warning, if you think an unsouled S6 type of Spike is _good_ (as opposed to not so evil), you're probably going to be very disappointed with the way things go. I wanted to be as true to what the writers intended with these characters as possible, despite how satisfying it would be to just get them together without all the angst.

That being said, I hope you enjoy.

Now and then I throw in lines from various episodes, or something similar to what a character has said. Um, you'll know when you see them, and credit goes to the appropriate writer. Since we're now AU, things might be said/done completely out of order from the way they happened on the show. Obviously. I know I have things in the 'wrong' places, just in case you thought I was losing my mind!

* * *

Spike knew he was just pandering to his strange _dirtywrong_ cravings now, but what the hell. What was the point of being the one with the power if you couldn't do whatever you bloody well wanted? As long as he didn't burst into sonnets, he had it all under control.

He stroked the brush through the Slayer's hair, gently working out the tangles, marveling over its luster and softness. He'd left her uncomfortably tied and gagged, just to remind her he wasn't some nancy boy soft on her. No, this was all about his gratification. Finished, he ran his hands through her hair, letting it slide over his hands, then bent down and smelled it. He frowned. It wasn't her normal scent, and it left him feeling unsatisfied.

Tugging the gag out of her mouth, he asked, "What kind of shampoo do you use?"

"Huh?"

"Shampoo. What. Kind. Do. You. Use?"

The Slayer hesitated. He gave her hair a sharp pull to remind her who was boss. "Why do you care?" she burst out defiantly.

"I'll get you some, alright?" No point in telling her the reason why. "If you're a good li'l prisoner, I'll get you some clean clothes too. Toothbrush. Whatever else you bleeders need to stay daisy fresh". She was silent, surprised.

"Look, you decided how you want it to be yet? No need for the violence. I don't have to be a monster, you know".

Buffy exploded. "Are you out of you mind? You've kidnapped me, tied me up, threatened to rape me, and ultimately plan on killing me! And you want me to, what, play nice? Pretend I'm your honored guest? _Be grateful_ to you?"

Okay, well, put it that way and she did have a point. Humans were rather less forgiving than vampires about details like that. Spike felt like a bloody ponce for even trying to get on her good side. What the hell was the matter with him? He _was_ going soft.

"Right. Have it your way then". Enraged at her defiance and his own ridiculous behaviour, he stuffed the gag back in her mouth. "I'll stick with being a monster. More fun for me," he added, dragging her viciously to the edge of bed. She choked as the noose around her neck cut into her throat, so he cut the rope that ran from her neck to her feet. He didn't want her dead just yet. She coughed and spluttered around the gag, but he didn't give her time to recover. Instead he slung her over his shoulder.

"We're going. Got an appointment to keep". He nudged the dead boy out of the way of the door with his foot, then carried her out to the car and dumped her into the back seat, Drusilla's words to him about the Slayer dancing inside his head and mocking him.

* * *

Buffy wasn't sure what the hell was going on with Spike. He'd always seemed unusual for a vampire, but she'd never suspected him of being insane before now. One minute he was gleefully terrorizing her, the next primping her hair and wanting to be her best friend. Dru's dumping him must have driven him over the edge.

Jouncing along in the back seat, she wondered what this appointment consisted of. She could only hope it would be her death. She'd had enough of trying to keep up with his mood swings. Not likely though, since they were still in LA and nowhere near the East coast.

On the plus side, Spike's possession of the Gem of Amarra meant that he could roll the windows down during the day while he drove. It made the back seat significantly cooler and less odiferous.

The car screeched to a halt and she rolled into the space behind the front seat with a thump, landing on a variety of sticky empty bottles. So much for the shower. The back door wrenched open and Spike loomed over her. Wrapping his hand in the hair he'd so tenderly brushed less than 20 minutes ago, he dragged her out of the car and onto the pavement, then hoisted her onto the trunk. The DeSoto was parked in the center of an intersection, gleaming under the bright afternoon sun.

Buffy wasn't sure where they were. It was a silent, non-descript street with shabby buildings and a deserted air. The buildings seemed to shrink away from the sunlight flooding the streets.

"Oi! Angelus! Got something of yours!" Spike bellowed. Buffy blinked in shock. This was Angel's place? What was Spike planning?

The blinds in one of the windows closest to them shifted, and Buffy could see Angel's surprised face peering out.

"Come out you wanker! What are you hiding for? Don't you want to get the girl?" Spike taunted, strutting up and down in between the car and the building. The front door opened, and two people stepped out into the sun, neither of them Angel. Well, obviously. He didn't have the ring, did he?

Buffy was surprised to see one of the people was Cordelia. Cordelia was here too? But why?

"Cordelia!" Spike called out. "You look smashing. Did you lose weight?"

"Yeah! There's this great gym at – hey!"

The dark-haired man spoke in a thick Irish brogue. "Spike is it?"

"Yeah, mate, that's me. Who the hell are you?"

"'M Doyle. Angel's associate. He's, ah…" Doyle glanced at the blazing sun. "Unavailable at the moment. Unlike you. How d'you come to be all non-dusty this fine time of day?"

"'Cause I'm not a bleeding pansy like your boss-man. He's not willing to risk his arse to save his true love?" Spike sneered, stepping up to Buffy and giving her a shake.

"Well, I think he was…" Doyle trailed off as Angel came up behind him, a blanket spread over his head and a crossbow tucked in one arm. Buffy gazed at him hopefully.

"Spike! Let her go!" Angel's baritone rang out.

"Or what, mate? Not seeing as there's much you can do right now".

"Just let her go. You can take me instead".

"Not bloody likely". Doyle had taken the crossbow from Angel, and Spike moved so the car was between him and the building.

He pulled Buffy backwards until she was flush up against him, and yanked her head to the side, exposing the healing bite mark. "You're not nearly as tasty". His other hand roamed over her belly and brushed the underside of her breast. She squirmed in his grasp and moaned around the gag. "Or as shaggable," he added.

Angel growled. "Come on Spike. These things never end well for you. Why don't you just let Buffy go and you can get out of town before I kill you".

Buffy felt his mouth hovering over her neck, and he sucked on the wound, opening it. "You want me to let you go, sweetheart? Give you to Angelus there?" Buffy felt silly, knowing he didn't mean it, but she still nodded fervently.

To her amazement, he cut through the ropes binding her legs and set her down on the ground. Her eyes flew to Angel's, and his looked just as surprised as she felt. Spike gave her a little push, and she wobbled precariously. "Go on then. Run to your Sweetie Bear".

Buffy didn't need telling twice. She took off towards Angel, not nearly as fast as she would have liked. Cordelia and Doyle fanned out from the doorway, and Angel took a step forward, right into the edge of the sunlight.

Before she'd even made it halfway, several things happened simultaneously.

* * *

Were they all stoned? Did they really think he was just going to give the Slayer up? Witless wonders! Spike had enjoyed playing his little game, but enough was enough. He wanted Angelus to come out into the sunlight, risk a little for his so-called true love, but it wasn't happening. And the other two wankers were in his way.

Spike sprang forward and caught the Slayer, bringing her to the ground just as an arrow from Doyle's crossbow whizzed over his head. He flung his prisoner back toward the car, hearing her thump against it and slide to the ground as he launched himself at the small Irishman.

The next bolt lodged in his heart, but it didn't even slow him down. "You'll have to do better than that, you git!" Spike snarled, yanking the crossbow away from Doyle and bashing him over the head with it. He went down like a ton of bricks and the cheerleader screamed. He whirled to her next, catching her before she could reach the safety of the doorway, and dragged her backwards.

"How 'bout this one then? Will you come out to save this one?" Spike asked, head cocked. His grand-sire still hesitated in the doorway, glaring at him with his big stupid eyes. With a sigh, Spike sank his fangs into her neck. He wasn't hungry, but this was getting ridiculous. He _really_ wanted Angel to come out. It just wasn't as much fun otherwise.

Angel disappeared from the doorway, and reappeared with an axe. Spike laughed. "See this mate?" He pulled out the arrow lodged in his heart with a slight grimace. "Notice the non-fatal sun? You can't _kill_ me you enormous wanker. Can't even hurt me". He nodded at Buffy. "I just want you to come out and play, is all. I have something of yours and I thought you might want it back". His voice darkened. "Just like you had something of mine and I wanted it back".

"Oh. My. God. Spike," Angel huffed in exasperation. "Are you still sore because Drusilla preferred me to you? It's not my fault you can't keep a woman!"

Spike shook the cheerleader that was trembling in his arms, nudged the prone Slayer with his boot. "Got two I'm keeping right here, since you're not vamp enough to take them from me". He sank his teeth into the girl again. Her heart slowed. She might live if somebody got her to a hospital. Or not. Spike didn't care. He dropped her.

"You have the Gem of Amarra". Angel didn't even question it.

"I do". Spike watched the dumb lug's face work through different scenarios. "Her heart's slowing, Angelus. You going to let her die just because the sun's shining?" He squinted up at the sun. "You know it wouldn't stop me. Guess I'm just better than you".

Ah, there. Angelus roared and came at him, skin sizzling and smoking despite the blanket. Spike didn't actually want him to dust. Yet. There was more fun to be had with his grand-sire. Captain Forehead had a _lot_ to make up for.

He rushed forward and knocked Angel back through the doorway. Angel vamped and swung the axe at his head, intending to decapitate him. Spike didn't wait around to find out if the gem protected him from that, it not being an experiment he was willing to undergo. He wrenched the axe out of Angel's hand and used it to brain him. The larger vampire slumped unconscious. Excellent. Mission accomplished.

* * *

Buffy was getting really tired of being knocked out cold. It definitely wasn't doing her head any favors, and it wasn't something she'd ever intended to make a habit of.

She was also really tired of waking up tied to a bed. The being naked part was a new and unpleasant twist.

So where the hell had William the Bloody taken her now? The dank air, glistening rock walls and flickering candles suggested a cave or someplace underground. Buffy could hear the vampire in question singing cheerfully nearby. Craning her head, she caught sight of him by the wall across from the foot of the bed, chaining Angel into a set of manacles dangling there.

_Angel!_

Thank god he wasn't dust. Buffy had no idea what Spike's plan was. The thought that he'd gone completely insane returned to her. She had a vague recollection of Spike telling her they were here to see her Sweetie Bear when they'd first arrived in LA, but the horror of being drugged had pushed the question of whom he had meant right out of her mind. Now she knew.

Again, why, though? How did this play into the whole 'feed Buffy to Drusilla' plan?

She tipped her head back up to examine Angel's condition despite the crick it caused in her neck. One side of his head was covered in blood and his skin was blistered, suggesting he'd come out into the sun to save her after all. Which was sweet, but stupid, and reminiscent of something Spike would do. He was the one who took the crazy chances. Angel was usually more restrained than that. He must have been really worried about her.

Spike spoke without looking at her. "Hullo again ducks. You have a good sleep?"

"Yeah, I'm plenty rested and ready to kill you now," she spat, although that was nowhere near the truth, considering that she was tied spread-eagled to the bed.

"Tsk. Such a big mouth". He gave a final tug on the chains, and seemingly satisfied, turned to her. "Maybe we should give it something else to do". He grabbed himself to indicate just what her mouth could do.

"As if," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "Just what kind of a degenerate were you before you were turned?"

Spike howled with mirth. "What?" she asked defensively.

He wiped his eyes. "Oh, that's a good one. The worst kind, luv. I was a bad, rude man. Although," he turned back to Angel, slapped him hard, "not quite as bad as Liam here. Oi, wake up!"

Angel groaned and stirred. "Spike," he ground out, and then catching sight of Buffy, "Buffy!"

"Hey Angel! Whatcha doing hanging about a place like this?" she said as cheerily as possible, trying to ignore the fact that Angel was probably seeing more of her intimate parts than he had the night they'd spent together. With a pointed look at Spike, she added, "The company seems a little low-brow for you!"

Spike snorted. "You're full of them today, Slayer. Don't you know your precious _Angel_ is the one who made me the evil monster before you now? And yeah, I'm a big, bad vamp, but even at my worst I've never come close to touching _his_ kind of evil".

"I know what Angel's done, Spike, but it's not who he is anymore. You, though, you're still garbage". Buffy was surprised at the hurt look that flitted across his face, but a moment later it was gone and she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.

"What do you want, boy?" Angel spoke domineeringly, and Buffy noted that Spike hunched in on himself a little before puffing his chest out. It was one thing to know Spike had once been subservient to Angel, and quite another to see Angel actually asserting power over the younger vampire like that.

"Told you before," Spike bristled. "You took something of mine. I'm going to take something of yours. Tit for tat".

"Are you six?" Buffy cut in incredulously. "That's what this is about?" She began to tug on her ropes in earnest. "Let me go you bleached moron! I'm not some prize in your pissing contest!"

Spike ignored her outburst and sat beside her, ghosting his hand up the outside of her leg from toes to hip. "We know _he_ found perfect happiness between your legs. Of course he would. The worthless wanker's greatest achievement as a human was the number of innocent girls he deflowered."

He turned so he was completely facing her. Buffy was thrown by his expression. It wasn't lust. His eyes burned fervently with _something_. She could hear Angel thrashing in the background, calling to her, but the intensity of the vampire in front of her made everything else fade away. "I wonder, what would _I_ find between your legs, dear, sweet Buffy?" he asked in a low rumble.

More than anything else, the use of her name unnerved her. Whatever he was feeling, one thing was sure. Spike had passed Crazy Town three exits ago and wasn't coming back.

Suddenly he sprang up and slid over to Angel. "You want to know what I want? I want to take what _you_ want. And I've given this some thought".

Angel snorted and rolled his eyes. "You know, you might want to have some respect for the man WITH YOUR LIFE IN HIS HANDS!" Spike bellowed.

Calmer, he continued. "As I was saying. Thought. I've given it some. My number one goal is to make this hurt for you. A bit of torment, if you will. For most blokes, seeing the girl they love tied up, raped and tortured would do. But you're not most blokes are you? You, you get off on it".

"NO."

"Oh I think so. I know you better than that. You may be all soul-having now, but we know the truth, you and I, don't we. Shall we let your precious Buffy in on the secret?"

Angel whispered something so quietly that Buffy couldn't hear, and Spike turned to her with a malicious grin. "Oh, yes, I think so. You see, sweetheart, you can shove a hundred souls into him, but the truth is, _Angel_ is still a demon inside. And his demon _likes_ seeing you tied up and spread out before him. It excites him".

Buffy shook her head fervently. "No. Angel isn't like that".

Spike squeezed Angel's crotch and smirked. "Oh, yes, he is. He's Angelus through and through. Of course, he's going to _brood_, and feel _really_ bad about this for as long as he exists, but lover-boy here is as hard as a rock right now".

Suddenly uncertain, she studied Angel, who had his face averted. "Should I unchain him, Slayer, let him have you? I'm sure he'd feel so _dreadful_ about it that he'd keep his worthless soul." She shuddered. It had been bad enough before, but now Buffy knew she was trapped in a nightmare. She wasn't ever going to be able to forget this. If Spike were intent on torture, he was already there.

"Spike," she said in a low voice. Anything to distract him from this train of thought, stop the disturbing words pouring out of him. "I thought you were going to let me go".

He plopped down beside her. "I lied. Are you surprised?" he asked curiously. "I _am_ evil, after all." He ran his hand up the inside of her leg this time. "Unlike _Angelus_, I know what I am. Evil. And the sight of you like this is making me verrrry hard, Slayer," he purred, fingers resting on the lips of her sex.

It was too much. Buffy couldn't help but cry. "I… I thought you wouldn't touch me like this," she gulped pathetically. "You promised".

Spike watched her cry, impassive, and trailed one finger up the slit between her legs. "See the above answer, Slayer. Evil". Buffy turned her face away and cried harder, knowing it would do nothing to sway him. Evil, like he said. Death was fine, torture bearable, but being raped, especially by a demon, was more than she could take.

Desperately, she tried another tactic. "You said yourself I wasn't worth a go".

"A second go". Spike turned to Angel. "But a first go, I think so. She must be worth it, don't you think, if she could shag the soul right out of you?"

Angel kept his head averted, still refusing to talk.

"Shall I show her the lessons _you_ taught me, _Angelus?_ Show her the ways a clever vampire can have fun with a young girl? You'd like to see your lessons in action, wouldn't you? Like to know what a good teacher you are?" His fingers probed inside of her, just enough to make sure she felt it. She was dry there, and it hurt.

Buffy tried not to moan in terror, realizing that was probably part of the 'lessons' Angelus had taught young William the Bloody. This was the wrong kind of history lesson.

Spike continued. "Of course, that's the problem. You'd _like_ that, no point in denying it". Removing his fingers from between her legs, he strode back to the chained vampire, and rubbed them on Angel's lips. "And I want to torment you. So I'm thinking a worse torture would be knowing that I'd had your _willing _girl, the one you can't ever touch, over and over".

"I'd never!" Buffy gasped at the same time as Angel sneered, "Like Drusilla wanted me over and over, boy?"

Spike looked between them. "Yeah, this is going to be fun!" he smiled, and walked out.

Angel spoke up immediately. "Buffy, don't listen to him. He lies. Twists things. I'm not… I wouldn't get off on seeing you…".

"Angel, don't," Buffy said quietly. It was not something she was ever going to talk about or even think about again. "Just… let's try to figure out how to get out of this, okay?"

Angel blew out a breath. "Yeah, sure".


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:**

I'm glad folks are liking bad, evil Spike. Because he's still here.

Nothing belongs to me, yadda yadda yadda.

* * *

Spike strolled in some time later, swinging the grocery bag in his hand. At the top of the tunnel he paused and listened. He could just make out the conversation below.

"Still no luck?"

"No!" Frustrated. "I hate being this weak. He's been drugging me".

Outraged. "What? Drugging you?"

"That's what I said. He got hold of the Cruciamentum drugs somehow".

""You know I'll kill him, right? Spike's not that smart. He'll end up screwing up, and I'll kill him".

Sarcastic. "Gee, thanks. My hero. I was planning on doing it myself, but I appreciate the offer".

Grumbling. "Do you have any leeway?"

Sounds of struggling. "No. None. I've already gotten loose from him once, and he's being extra careful now".

Silence. Spike started down the tunnel when the quiet dragged on, but then –

"What if you gave him what he wanted?"

Screeched. "_WHAT?_"

"Look, I don't… it's not… Just consider…"

"NO! _NEVER!_"

More silence, then – "This could go either way. Spike might get bored and give up. In which case he'll just kill me and do whatever he wants with you. Or he'll hold out until…"

"Until what?"

"Until you end up giving in. And then he'll kill me and do whatever he wants with you".

Menacing, "And me _giving in_ _now_ helps how?"

"We get it over with. We'll both get weaker as time goes on. If you… if you can…" (gulping) "distract him… maybe…"

Growled. "Maybe _what,_ Angel? What exactly do you hope to accomplish by pimping me out?"

Hesitant. "If he's distracted, we find an opportunity to get out of this?"

"NO! There'll be another way. Like you said, Spike will screw up eventually".

"Maybe". A pregnant pause, and then, "It wouldn't have to be so horrible. Spike can be very… talented".

Shocked. "I'm going to forget you said that. I don't even want to know how you know that! No, stop it, memory blocked already".

Spike chuckled. Who knew the poof would be on his side after all? It was an interesting twist he hadn't imagined. Maybe the idea of Spike getting the girl wasn't quite as torturous for Angel he'd imagined it to be.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I… just… what if he loses interest in waiting and decides to rape you? Wouldn't that be worse?"

Or maybe the misguided wanker was actually trying to help the girl, not understanding the Slayer's mind. Spike did. And his suspicions were confirmed when she spoke.

"No Angel, it would not be worse. Because as awful as rape would be, at least I wouldn't have chosen it. I would still have more dignity than if I sold myself out to a soulless, evil, _disgusting _creature like Spike".

Well, the disgusting part hurt. Not going to lie about that. Spike began to walk forward once more. He'd almost reached the bottom when the Slayer spoke again.

"You know what the funny thing is? As evil as Spike is, I have a hunch that he'd treat me a lot better the morning after than you did. Or… or anybody else has so far. Sleeping with him wouldn't make him change into the world's biggest asshole. Knowing _my_ luck, since he's already an asshole, he'd probably change into the best boyfriend ever. Wouldn't that be ironic?"

Spike turned the corner just in time to see Angel looking like he'd been force fed a whole steaming pile of dog crap. However, he couldn't bring himself to laugh at the other vampire's obvious anguish because he had a sneaking suspicion the Slayer was right. He already found himself going soft around her. Caring what she thought. If she did come to him willingly…

He might become completely besotted with her.

_NO! It's just curiosity. It'll pass as soon as I shag her. I'll shag her and I'll kill her and I'll make merry with my Dru. She's the one I'm in love with. I'm doing this for her, aren't I?_

Spike didn't know anymore.

* * *

Buffy saw Angel whip his head to the side, so she turned to see what he was looking at. Spike.

"Hullo kiddies. Daddy's back. Have a nice time?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead dropping onto the bed next to her. "Brought you some nummies, pet, stop that awful gurgling your tummy's making". He turned to Angel, said, "Sorry, didn't bring you anything, mate. I ate while I was out and didn't think to get a doggie bag for you". Buffy shuddered at the realization of what he meant.

Spike reached in the grocery bag he held and pulled out a six-pack of Ensure. Despite being desperately hungry, Buffy couldn't help but make a sound of disgust. At his raised eyebrow, she said, "That's for, like, really old people. It's gross".

He shrugged. "Yeah, but with these," he pulled out a pack of straws, "I don't have to untie you to feed you. Don't think you've earned that yet". He popped the top of one can, held it up enquiringly. "Says complete nutrition here on the side. I think t'was bloody considerate of me to pick these up".

She sighed. It was food, no matter how gross, and who knew when he might think to feed her again. "Okay, fine". When he didn't bring the drink any closer, she gritted her teeth and said, "Thank you. Please, can I have some?"

"Good girl". She drained the can, and without a word he offered her another one. She finished that as well, then shook her head when he offered her a third. Two was all she could stand, no matter how hungry she was.

"S'been a long day and I'm ready to get a bit of kip. You need to use the loo before I go to sleep, 'cause I don't want to be woken up again."

"Fine". Buffy knew she definitely would need to go at some point, and it would give her a chance to stretch, maybe more.

"Alright then. But try anything – _anything_ – and you'll be sorry. Got it?"

She nodded, and he undid her bindings. She quickly sat up and rubbed the feeling back into her limbs, but before it could come completely back, Spike had her by the arm and was hustling her out of the room. He stopped in the dark corner of a tunnel, and she looked at him askance, flinging a disgusted "Here?" at him.

He just stood and waited. Buffy hopped from one foot to the other, the floor cold on her bare feet, and having no other option, finally gave in. She squatted in the corner as delicately as she could, then quickly stood up and moved away. "You couldn't have made an evil lair someplace with an actual bathroom?" she grumbled.

"Sorry pet. I'll be sure to book a suite at the Plaza next time". He hauled her back to the bed, then tied her up in a different configuration, both hands chained to one corner and both feet to another, so she lay on her side with her back to the middle. It was marginally more comfortable, and significantly less exposed. She supposed she ought to feel grateful for small favors, but understood why he'd done it that way when he stripped down and claimed the other half of the bed.

Spike picked up a blanket that had fallen on the floor, then spread it over the bed, covering her too. "Thanks," she muttered quietly. The chilly, dank air had left her freezing. When he was settled, barely touching her, she gave a small sigh of relief. She'd been worried he had more in mind, but apparently he really just wanted to sleep.

"'Night, you lot. Make sure to keep it down. You don't want me to be cranky when I wake up". With that, Buffy didn't hear another sound out of him, not even a breath.

"That's just creepy," she whispered.

"Any luck with the restraints now? Are they looser?" Angel whispered back.

She pulled and twisted, but it was futile. "No. You know, Angel, I think I'm just going to go to sleep too. Save my strength for now. You okay over there?"

"Yeah. This one manacle seems to be a little loose. I'm going to keep working on it".

After a few moments, he spoke again. "This might sound strange, but it's good to see you Buffy. I've missed you".

She snorted. "Don't take this the wrong way Angel, but I think I'd rather not be with you at the moment, all things considered. I'd be much happier at home in my own bed".

Angel gave a sad sigh. "Guess you've got a point. Get some sleep".

Buffy gave an internal shake of her head. She loved Angel dearly, but he could be so clueless sometimes.

Even though she'd spent a good part of the day unconscious, it wasn't in a good way, and she was exhausted. She drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next three days were mostly more of the same. Buffy and Angel remained tied up. Spike came and went as he pleased. Sometimes he'd announce he was bored and amuse himself by torturing Angel for awhile. Other times he'd try to get the his grand-sire to reminisce about 'the good old days' with him, telling stories that made Buffy sick to her stomach.

Now and then, he'd ignore Angel in favor of Buffy. Frequently, he'd be gentle with her, almost sweet, stroking her hair and trying to softly engage her in conversation. He even filled the list she'd given him of toiletries and clothes she wanted. Not that she got to use them, but still.

Other times, without any warning, he'd revert to his usual crude self, making dirty innuendos or touching her intimately, just barely, just enough to remind her he could. Buffy wasn't sure what capricious meant, but she was fairly certain it applied to the freaky vampire that shared her bed. Either that or demented.

And every day, Spike would inject Buffy with more drugs, making sure she stayed weak.

By the end of the third day, all three of them were frustrated. The prisoners because they were hungry, sore, and still hadn't escaped, and Spike because he wasn't having any fun beyond the little bit of pleasure he derived from hurting Angelus. The sport was wearing thin.

As unpredictable as he was, Spike could be counted on for one thing. Eventually he'd get bored and throw his plans right out the metaphorical window. Exactly what he would do next, nobody knew.

* * *

On the fourth day, when Spike returned, he brought food for Angel. He hadn't given him anything to eat this whole time, and Spike knew how hungry he must be. He figured this ought to be good for some excitement, at least.

He carried an unconscious young girl over his shoulder. Small, blonde, pretty. Angelus' favorite type of snack. Both sets of eyes trained on him as he entered the room. Standing directly in front of the chained vampire so that his view of the Slayer was blocked, Spike slowly set the girl on her feet and pulled her head back to expose her neck. He took his time, making it look as enticing as possible. Keeping his eyes on Angel, he lowered his head and bit into her, drinking leisurely. After only a few sips, he stopped, pulled out, and let the scent permeate the room.

Blood dripping from his fangs, he asked lowly, seductively, "Hungry? Want a taste?"

Angel's eyes were fastened on the blood running down the girl's neck, but he shook his head. "No," he said with conviction.

Spike brought the girl closer to Angel's mouth, and Angel's eyes flashed yellow, but he still shook his head.

"Angel? What's happening?" Buffy called out. Angel didn't answer her.

"Come on, mate, I know you're starving. Just a taste. It won't kill the girl," Spike crooned. He watched his grand-sire's face flicker back and forth. He was impressed. It took a lot not to give into blood lust when you hadn't had even a sip for 2 or 3 days. By now, Angel's demon should be howling for blood, enough to overwhelm any conscience.

"No," Angel whispered. "I can't. I don't feed from live humans anymore".

"Oh, so dead ones are good then?" Spike asked, and quickly snapped the girl's neck.

Angel gasped. Buffy tried calling to him again, but Spike spoke over her. "No guilt now. Girl can't be saved. Might as well feed yourself, get your strength up. You'll need it to escape". Again he held the body up to Angel's mouth. This time, Angel vamped, growled.

"ANGEL!" Buffy shrieked. Spike could hear her struggling behind him. "What… What're you doing?"

Angel's face reverted, and he slumped backwards in his chains. Spike considered him with his head cocked. Was it the soul that stopped him? The Slayer? He couldn't tell. He could hear the Slayer crying quietly in the background, and wondered when the sound had started to make him uneasy, rather than delighted.

Still curious about whether he could get him to feed, he dipped his fingers in the girl's blood and held it to Angel's lips. The other vampire's tongue nipped out and licked his fingers seemingly involuntarily, but when Spike offered again, he moaned and shook his head.

No sense in wasting a meal. Spike finished what he wanted, and carried the body away. Unlike the others, he was well-rested and well-fed, brimming with vitality. Only problem was, it made him bloody antsy for action. If something didn't change soon, he was just going to say to hell with it all.

Spike wondered as he walked back whether Angel would have fed if the Slayer hadn't been there. Maybe he could bring the next meal when she was sleeping.

* * *

Buffy slid through half-formed dreams, the sensation of something cool and wet probing her inner folds. The probing moved higher, to her clit, and she gave a little sigh of bliss. Fingers tweaked and slid and caressed her in just the right way. As her pleasure mounted, the real world began to intrude on her dreams.

She felt the weight of a solid, hard body between her legs, and soft hair brushing against her thighs. It felt good, and she squirmed a little, eyes still shut tight. She was so close, and she wanted to grab the hair, guide the tongue just a little to the –

She quickly woke the rest of the way with a cry of despair. She couldn't guide anything; her hands were immobilized. As were her feet. And that meant – she raised her head, confirmed her fears. _No, no, NO!_ And the worst part was she didn't want him to stop, because any second…

Buffy shoved the thought out of her mind, did her best to wrench away from Spike. "Don't!" she howled, humiliated by the wetness pooling between her legs and the throbbing, the throbbing that was about to burst into something bad and evil and _wrong_.

Spike raised his head, lips glistening. "Don't what, luv? Don't do this?" He licked his lips, brushed his tongue over her clit, and looked at her through heavy eyelids. "Or don't _stop_ doing this?" he asked, repeating his actions.

She trembled. God, Angel was right, he had _talent_, at least as far as she could tell, considering she'd never experienced this before. She knew instinctively, though, that she wasn't likely to experience anything like it again. Her whole body was so tightly wound she thought she might vibrate right off the bed. She was desperate to scream _don't stop!_ at him, to let him take her over the edge, no matter how wrong.

She didn't though, enough of her mind still remembering just what he was. "Please, leave me alone. I don't want… that," she told him in a shaky voice.

He raised himself up and tipped his head, regarding her. Slowly, Spike lifted the hand that had been stroking her, glistening strands of wetness stretching up from her sex before both their eyes. "You're lying. You do want," he purred.

Buffy turned away, unable to face the proof he was presenting her with. "Not with you," she spat.

"Soon. Soon you'll be begging me, now that you know what you're missing". He crawled up her so he could suck the spot right below her ear. "And this is just the beginning, pet. Just a warm-up act. I can make you feel things you've never dreamed of".

Holding as still as possible, she fought the shivers running through her, cursing her traitorous body. "Really? You mean there are levels of disgust I haven't dreamt of yet?"

Spike chuckled. "There's no need for disgust. No need to be ashamed. As long as it feels good… even when it feels a little bit bad… there's nothing wrong with taking pleasure where you find it".

"Yes! There is! Some things are just plain _wrong_. You'll never get it though, because you're just a -"

"Yeah, Slayer, I know, just a soulless, evil demon. At least I bloody well get to have fun," he snapped.

He leapt out of bed and crossed to Angel, removing a gag from his mouth. "How 'bout you, Peaches, you having fun?" Angel only glared at him.

Buffy watched in horrified shame as Spike sniffed his fingers then sucked his forefinger. "You ever taste the girl? Lick her sweet little cunny juices?"

"Spike," Angel growled warningly.

"Want a taste?"

When Angel's gaze shifted hesitatingly to Spike's fingers, Buffy lost it. Was it because they were men? Vampires? Either which way she didn't care. She was done with Spike. "_Pig_! You are the most filthy, disgusting, perverted, degraded PIG I have ever met!" she screamed.

"Would that be me or Angel then?" Spike asked innocently.

"YOU! You! Let me up! Let me out of here. I. Have. Had. ENOUGH of this!"

To her surprise, he did. He untied her and stepped back. She leapt up and moved into an attack stance, tears streaming, breasts heaving.

"You're a sick fuck, Spike. Either kill me or let me go, do you understand me? I can't take your games anymore".

He laughed, gleeful. "Now this is fun! Come on, Slayer. Have at me!"

She threw herself at him, in spite of her weakened state. Her blows were ineffectual, but she didn't care. If she couldn't get away, she would die trying. Hit after hit she rained down on him, but all Spike needed to do was block her. When she managed a back kick that actually knocked him down, she sprinted to the exit.

She wasn't even halfway up the tunnel when he caught her, pinning her to the ground and rolling her over in the mockery of an embrace. Despair sank through her, turning her bones to jelly.

"You're right, it's time to go," he told her in a jaunty voice. "I'm guessing you'll want clothes at least before we leave," he added as he pulled her up and frog-marched her back down the cold tunnel.

"I don't care. I just want to be away from you".

"Sorry, luv. I wish I could let you go, but… ah, no, I don't wish I could let you go. I rather need you at the moment".

As soon as they returned to the room, Angel quit straining at his manacles. "Buffy. I'm sorry".

"Yeah, me too".

"Oh cheer up," Spike interjected. "We're going to have a change of scenery. It'll do us all some sodding good. Well, not _you_," he said to Angel. "You're not going anywhere. Although, tell you what. Since I'm in a good mood I'll take down the wards hiding our happy little home, here, and maybe your crack team will stumble on you before something else does".

"You'd do better to kill me, boy, because when I find you…" Buffy shook her head madly at him, trying to get him to shut up. At least this way Angel had a chance. And he knew Spike had her, what he planned to do. He'd be able to get help.

"Whatever, grandpa. Save it," Spike retorted.

And before she could catch her breath, Buffy was once again tied up in the back of Spike's car, headed out on the road.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes:

Standard Disclaimers apply.

* * *

Spike sang along to the music and pounded the steering wheel in time to the beat as he flew along the winding highway. He'd cleaned the blacking off his windows of his baby, and they sparkled in the sunlight. He'd never let the sun keep him from driving during the day, but by God, it was _grand_ to be able to see the scenery as he sped past. Just because he was evil didn't mean he couldn't appreciate beauty. As a human, he'd never seen anything like the California coastline, and since being turned he'd only been able to view the wide world at night. Or in tiny parcels glimpsed through darkened windows.

He'd never regretted having to give up the sun when he'd been turned, but it didn't mean he wasn't enjoying being out and about in it to the fullest now. It was the way he lived, or, unlived, he amended, squeezing out every last bit of fun to be had. No more the sodding scared, meek, sniveling human was he. He did what he wanted and reveled in his freedom. And this free man – vampire – wanted to drive the California coast in the daylight.

Once he reached Monterey, he'd have to turn back inland, or risk making his temporary detour even longer. He considered saying to hell with Drusilla, and just turning around and heading down the Mexican coast with Buffy in tow. His dark princess had left _him_, hadn't she? Why should he rush back to her? And she couldn't enjoy the sun like this with him. Not like Buffy could. He almost wished he had a convertible. He could imagine Buffy curled next to him, the sun shining down on her golden skin, blonde hair escaping a scarf on her head and streaming back in the wind, her little hand on his arm as she laughed and smiled at him.

_Yeah…_ Or, no. No! _Quit being a bloody ponce, mate. Bit of sun's going to your head._

Still, it was an intriguing picture, and it refused to leave. Spike shook his head to clear it away, deciding to ruminate on manlier things. Thoughts more befitting a vampire. Like the way he'd left Angel in Los Angeles.

The little spat with the Slayer had cleared his head and made him realize it was time to move on. He was happy with the way things had turned out, though. Arousing the girl had been bloody simple, in her sleep, and even when she'd awoken and realized it was him pleasuring her, she'd stayed excited. She might not admit it, but when he'd untied her and let her attack him, her arousal hadn't decreased one bit. She'd been bleeding glorious, all panting and heaving and glistening and smelling the way she did. His cock hardened remembering it.

The passion hiding deep inside this Slayer was incredible. Spike vaguely recalled having said something to her about passion once. Or maybe it was love. Same difference.

What had he said? Passion was blood, not brains, blood screaming to work its will. And Buffy's blood had been screaming for him. Not willingly. But it would come.

So he hadn't bothered waiting for her total capitulation. It was inevitable. He knew it.

And Angel knew it. And that was all that mattered.

Right before he'd left, he'd smugly whispered to Angel, "You know she's mine now. It's only a matter of time. Now that she knows how I can make her feel, she'll be thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Dreaming about _me_, not you. She's got passion and fire inside her, and I'm the one that can give her what she wants. What she needs. What no human can give her. What _you_ can't give her. Rest assured that your little Buffy will die completely satisfied," he'd finished with a wicked grin.

Angel had gazed longingly at the girl, stricken, but he hadn't said anything. Yeah, the big poof wasn't as dumb as he looked. After a few more deep cuts with the knife, the kind guaranteed to cause agony, Spike had left him there, knowing his thoughts would be tormenting him even worse.

The memory lit his face up, and he sang louder as his foot mashed the gas pedal to the floor.

* * *

At least, Buffy contemplated, she was clothed. It had been days since he'd allowed her any kind of covering. It was such a seemingly simple thing to take for granted, being able to wear clothes, but she would never be ungrateful again.

She even had fresh clothes on, thanks to Spike's bizarre desire to get her some. Sure, they were kind of skanky, but they were comfortable and un-smelly. Maybe when they stopped she'd be extra lucky and get to use an actual bathroom. She marveled over the way a little kidnapping could change your perspective on things.

She couldn't see anything from where she lay, except the interior of the car and a bit of the brilliant blue sky. There wasn't anything to keep her occupied, other than Spike's dreadful music and singing, which made it hard to even think. The day dragged on into night, broken only by a stop for gas, during which Spike had gagged her and covered her with a ratty blanket. When it had been dark for hours, he stopped on a deserted stretch of highway and let her relieve herself, then fed her slices of a bruised apple and a slightly warm fountain soda from the last stop. Buffy ate the apple and drank the soda, as much for something to do as anything else.

When they returned to the car, Spike sat her in the front, propped up against the locked passenger door. Buffy contemplated how she might unlock the door and fling herself out of the car, or else somehow flop herself on top of Spike and cause an accident. Either scenario seemed a way to certain death at the speed they were traveling at, especially given how mind-numbingly exhausted she felt, so she simply sat there, slumped against the door, staring vacantly at the road blurring past in the night.

Eventually, sometime after they passed a sign saying 'Lake Tahoe: 38 miles', she fell asleep.

* * *

Spike swaggered into the swank lobby of the hotel he had chosen. The atmosphere was quiet and subdued in the late hours of the night. The attendant at the front desk glanced at him warily, no doubt concerned by his punk appearance, but Spike put on his most brilliant smile and strolled confidently towards her.

"Hullo, luv, how are you tonight?" He gave her his sexiest rumble and a wink. The woman blushed and fidgeted with some papers.

"F-fine. How can I help you?"

"Well, my young bride and I find ourselves somewhat delayed in our honeymoon travels, having left our previous accommodations a bit… late…" he trailed off, delicately implying why they were so far behind schedule, and the woman blushed even more. Reading her nametag, he continued, "So we find ourselves in need of a place to stay tonight, Julia. Our next hotel is several hours away yet, and we find ourselves anxious for… bed".

"Um, yes, well, certainly, certainly we can help you, sir," Julia stammered.

"Wonderful. I was wondering what you might have in the way of a suite. Something isolated from other guests, perhaps?" He leaned in closer, sharing an intimate confession. "My young bride is still shy, and she's more comfortable knowing that we have a lot of privacy. Where she can express herself knowing she won't be disturbing others".

Spike smiled when Julia's legs began to tremble violently. He might have to visit this one for dinner. She smelled delicious.

"I… I have just the room for you," she said faintly, staring up at him with big eyes. Spike stepped back from her and she shook herself, regaining her professional attitude. He didn't have a thrall, but he didn't need one with the ladies. He could charm most birds when he felt like putting the effort into it.

When he'd paid – cash – and received the room key from her, he went back out to the car when the Slayer slept the sleep of the heavily sedated. He untied her and arranged her in his arms, carrying her in as though she were simply a young and worn out new bride and not his captive. With a wink at Julie, he entered the elevators and took her to the suite, the only occupied one on this floor as he'd been promised.

* * *

Buffy stretched sleepily, reveling in the decadent feel of the comfortable bed and crisp, sweet-smelling sheets beneath her. She kept her eyes closed despite the bright sun she felt shining on her eyelids, for some reason certain that once she opened them the peaceful contentment she felt would disappear. Instead, she curled around the soft pillows and gave a sleepy mewl of bliss. A hand stroked her head and she snuggled into it when it moved to her back, rubbing small circles along her spine.

After a few more moments, she sighed again, but this time in displeasure. All her memories had come back to her, and while she wasn't sure how she'd come to be in such a pleasant bed, she was fairly certain who was rubbing her back. Which meant she was still a prisoner.

"Spike," she said, and the rubbing stopped, hand hovering lightly over her back. She had a million questions, but the only one that made it out was, "Where are we?"

"Open your eyes and see," he replied, his voice enigmatic.

She did, and they widened quickly. Where ever they were, it was _beautiful_. Warmly painted walls contrasted oversized pale pine furniture etched with southwestern designs. Colorful rugs hung on the walls, and large French doors leading to a balcony lit the whole room in brilliant sunlight. Buffy sat up, and through one doorway she could see a large sitting area. Through another was a luxurious bathroom, complete with a deep jetted tub.

She turned to him, eyes questioning. "S'not the Plaza, but…" Spike trailed off, and Buffy could have sworn he was embarrassed. With a shy glance at her, he gestured to the bathroom. "Thought you might like a nice big bath". Was he…

"Are you… trying to be nice to me?"

"Ah. No. Nothing like that. I just felt like staying someplace nice, myself".

She appraised him, watching him bluster. He was a terrible liar. The question was, why was he trying to be nice? Was this all part of his attempt to get her to sleep with him? Surely he'd given up on that, after all, Angel wasn't here to be 'tortured' by it.

She flexed her arms, assessing her strength. Still weak. And hungry, she added, as her stomach growled. But she was still clothed, and even untied. She rubbed her wrists where the ropes had chaffed them raw, and her eyes strayed back to the large tub. Spike watched her intently.

She held her raw skin up for him to see. "Look, I'm not sure what you're doing, but since we seem to be pretending not to be mortal enemies, do you have some first aid cream by any chance? Those drugs you keep forcing into me keep me from healing quickly and this really hurts".

"I do, actually. I got you some other things too. A nice meal. It's in the bathroom. I thought you might want to eat and have a soak".

"You are so strange," Buffy said, completely bewildered, but she got up and moved to the bathroom anyway, plugging the tub and turning on the water. She felt absolutely covered in filth, and there wasn't anything that was going to dissuade her from a bath now that one was available.

Spike followed her and handed her a small bottle of bubble bath. As she tipped it in and a steamy floral scent filled the room, he said quietly. "Sometimes a bloke just likes to take a break from being Evil". Buffy stared at him, surprised, but his face was inscrutable.

Her gaze didn't waver, and eventually he added, "S'lot of work, you know, being evil all the time. Takes a lot of effort to keep up the reputation of Big Bad".

"And here I thought it just came natural, what with you being a soulless demon and all".

Spike kept his eyes locked on hers, and he said, very seriously, "Yeah, the demon makes it natural to choose evil over good. But there are degrees of evil. Vampires, especially when they're no longer fledglings, can choose not to be killers. We're still people. Sort of. It's up to each of us how human we want to be".

Buffy didn't know what to make of that. Was Spike saying he could choose to be… well, not good, but at least not evil? She shook her head in confusion. Did that mean she didn't have to kill all vampires? No, surely he was lying. A vampire couldn't be good, it just wasn't natural. "I… I don't understand what you're saying".

Spike came closer, the steam swirling around him. "Look, I'm evil, right, as evil – or, almost as evil – I think Angelus and Darla get that distinction - as they come. What else would I be? My family was the Scourge of Europe. Of course I wanted to impress them. Make my own name. Became the Slayer of Slayers, didn't I?

"And it's been a right lark. I have no shame, no guilt. I do what I want and nobody – except maybe the Slayer – can stop me". Buffy stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the frank way he was speaking, his earnest tone of voice. "But. I don't have to be like that. Some vampires, they don't kill. They don't try to hatch evil, dastardly plots. They just use their strength and immortality to follow their interests. Live with humans in peace. It's rare. But… sometimes I think about it. Think about whom I could be if I didn't have this reputation to maintain".

"Of being William the Bloody".

Spike laughed. "Right. Gotta live up to a name like that, right?" he said with a crooked smile.

Buffy drew closer, curious. "Could you really? Be somebody different, that is?"

"Be William the Ponce? With this ring, I could do anything at all, and…" He blew out a breath, shook his head, and his tone changed from introspective to cocky. "Bloody hell, listen to me, I sound like a bleeding fool. I think about it, but, why? I like my life, it's been fun".

"_Fun_?" she retorted, appalled.

"Well, yeah. I am still a demon. What I've done doesn't bother me at all. Do you want it to?"

Buffy was surprised to realize that she did. The way he was talking, he'd almost convinced her that he could be a good… man? Vampire? And wasn't that a contradiction in terms. But she was strangely disappointed to find he didn't seem to have any remorse.

She wrenched the hot water off as viciously as she could manage. "No! Yes! You should feel bad. If you were really a person and not a demon, you would. You are _evil_, no matter whose face you wear, and it just reminds me that I need to kill you, because you would never feel remorse".

Spike gave her a poignant smile. "Let's leave the killing for another time, pet. Truce for today?" Buffy hesitated, and he added, "Don't make me tie you back up. I don't feel like a fight just now".

The sad way he said it made her agree, despite her urge to argue with him. "Sure". She looked longingly at the bath. "I think I'd rather slay the filth covering me right now anyhow". It didn't mean she would take advantage of any chance she got, though.

"Hop in and I'll fetch you something to eat, ducks". When he turned, she disrobed and sank into the fragrant bubble-filled water, sighing in satisfaction. She watched him as he stripped to his jeans, and was relieved when he stopped there, instead picking up a fruit tray from the far counter and setting himself on the edge of the tub.

Spike fed her as she soaked, holding pieces of food up to her mouth as though she were his lover and not his prisoner. When she tried to take them from him with her hands instead, he shook his head and insisted. Eventually, the hot, jetted water soothed her into a relaxed state and she allowed him to pamper her. When he once again washed her hair for her, massaging her scalp with delicate fingers, she reflected that she was trapped in a bizarre parody of her fantasies.

Later, wrapped in a big fluffy robe, she lolled loose-limbed on the comfortable bed as he brushed and dried her hair. "How'd you get to be so good at this?"

"Lots of practice, luv". She realized he meant Drusilla, and tensed, suddenly uncomfortable. _Suddenly uncomfortable? Suddenly? I should have been uncomfortable all along!_ she chided herself.

Spike must have sensed her change in mood. "Hush, luv. Relax. Just let it be. Truce, remember? No evil intentions here. I just like doing this".

Buffy remembered, remembered the hard-on he'd brushed against her, him telling her this was a kink. It didn't do anything to help her relax. Still, he wasn't being lewd at the moment. Just… sweet.

How disturbing.

"You're very strange," she said once again, at a loss for what else to say.

The confessions he'd made while in the bathroom played in her mind. Just who could Spike be if he decided to give up being evil? Buffy had to admit that a part of her was curious to find out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Notes:**

Joss and ME own everything. Sadly.

* * *

Later that day, they sat together on the balcony of the suite, watching the slowly sinking sun reflect brilliant colors onto the lake.

After bandaging her wrists and ankles, Spike had left her unbound the entire afternoon, but he did watch her constantly, never allowing her the chance to escape or more. She'd thumbed through the various brochures on the area, imagining she was there on vacation, and had nothing more pressing on her mind than which attraction to see tomorrow.

And now they were sitting together, admiring a sunset after basking in the sun, and talking like actual friends. Spike had, apparently, had quite a fascination with gunslingers and the Wild West as a fledgling. None of his vampiric family had shared his interest though, and so he'd never traveled to the Old West during its heyday. Still, he knew the local lore about outlaws and the silver and gold rushes, and was sharing it with Buffy, who found it interesting to hear history from his perspective. Especially since several outlaws had been demonic in one way or another.

"You know, you'd be handy to have around when I have to write papers for history, since you've lived through most of it".

Indignation flitted across his face. "Oi! I'm not that old! You make me sound like I'm centuries old!" He stopped, reconsidered. "Although, actually, that's a complement to a vampire…"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "If it weren't for the fact that you're _so old_," she gave him a mischievous grin, "I'd totally forget you're a vampire. Seeing as you're here sitting in the sun, eating chocolates from the mini-bar and doing nothing more evil than conversing with the Slayer".

"And again, 'm not sure if I should be insulted or not".

"Oh, definitely insulted". Her lighthearted mood fell away. "Of course, if you get your way, I'll never have to write a history paper again. Not sure if I should take that as a positive or not," she mused.

Glancing over at him, she was surprised to see he looked uneasy at her declaration. "What, having second thoughts?"

Spike looked startled. "Me? No. No, still going to kill you". He didn't sound very convincing.

"Spike, what is this? What are we doing? We're not friends. We'll never be. Why do you want to pretend we are? That I'm here voluntarily and not your captive?"

Buffy didn't think he was going to answer. She moved to get up and go inside, but then he said, "The ring's giving me a new perspective. With it, I can be as much of a man as I want instead of just a monster. This is nice, innit?" he looked at her pleadingly. "Sitting in the sun with me? Not fighting?"

She sat back down, heavily. It had been nice, enjoying the conversation and the sun, covertly examining him to see if he were tanning or burning (neither, apparently). She realized she had even been feeling comfortable with him, and it scared her, so she snapped, "The only reason we're not fighting right now is because you have me drugged and worn out. But don't think for a second it makes me your friend. You're not a man. And I can't forget it".

"No, I suppose you wouldn't".

He spoke so quietly, she felt uneasy, as if she had let him down. "Look, today you might feel like playing at being a man, but what about tomorrow? Next year? There's nothing to stop you from being full-on evil once again".

"Nothing but myself. Same as any man".

"Do you have a conscience? You don't feel remorse. So why would you stop yourself?"

He rolled up off the chaise long and went to the door. He paused and spoke without looking back at her. "For the right reason, I would. I'd do anything". With that enigmatic statement, he went inside.

Buffy let him go alone, staring out at the crepuscular sky and attempting to marshal her scattered thoughts. She pondered what Spike had said, about him being the only one who would stop himself from evil, the same as any man. She couldn't deny he had a point. After all, there were plenty of humans who _didn't_ stop themselves from doing wrong. Who was to say a demon couldn't stop being evil… if they had the right reason.

But what would that reason be?

And would it be enough to last?

When the night air became too cool for her sun-kissed limbs, she went inside, no less confused than before.

Spike was on the bed, apparently waiting for her, and Buffy remembered that she was still for all intents and purposes only a prisoner. She paused in the doorway, unsure of where they stood. He regarded her impassively, silently, and she fidgeted.

"Look, um, about what you said. It's hard for me to believe it," she began in a rush. "The only vampire I've ever really known, outside of a short and dusty relationship, is Angel. And well, without the soul…" she twisted her hands in anguish. "I thought the difference was pretty clear. No soul means evil. Never mind what the council told me, I've seen it with my own eyes".

"We're not all like Angel, luv".

"Yeah, I see that. I've spent enough time with you to know that you're pretty different from Angel – _Angelus_ – and I… I'm very confused now. I suppose if any vampire could choose to not be evil, that makes my job harder, doesn't it? Am I supposed to have a conversation with each one before I kill them, make sure they deserve it?"

Spike had moved to her, wrapped a fluffy robe around her to stop the shivering. "I guarantee you that 99.99% of vampires that you'll meet will deserve to be staked – from your point of view, of course. Most enjoy being evil. When I say that some vampires aren't, you have to understand that it's extremely rare. It's just… it can happen. Hypothetically". He kept his hands on the robe, holding her near him.

Buffy didn't pull away. "Oh". She considered this. "And you want me to believe _you_ could choose to not be evil. Hypothetically".

"Uh-huh".

She blew a strand of hair out of her face, and Spike used a finger to secure it behind her ear. "I'd have to see it to believe it. It would be pretty hard to convince me that you'd gone good. You're about as far from a paragon of virtue as you can get".

They were standing practically nose-to-nose in the doorway, eyes locked on each other. "Not saying I'm good, luv. Don't know if I could ever be good".

"Un-evil, whatever".

Spike stepped away, hooked his hands in his belt and leaned back. His intense demeanor slipped away and turned depreciating. "S'just hypothetical for now. Funny little thought knocking about my head, and I shared it with you because I could. You being a captive audience and all".

She gave an un-amused laugh. "Yup. Have to say, the balance is still firmly on the side of evil for you. But… thanks for showing me your un-evil side today. It was a really weird and surprising change".

"And nice?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm still confused about why you care, but, yes. And nice".

"Any chance you want to keep it that way, Buffy?"

His use of her name, so rare, made her irritated. Like they were friends. How could they be? "Spike, see, this is the part that reminds me how not human you are. You've been a – a real asshole. And - You. Are. Planning. On. Killing me. It's hard to keep up the nicey-nice with that looming over my head".

"Well, at least you could die happy. Why spend your last days unhappy if you have a choice?"

"There are so many things wrong with that statement I can't even begin to explain it to you".

He threw up his hands, angry. "Fine, be a bitch. A bloke tries to be nice to you and this is what he gets".

"You…! Seriously?" She spluttered, incoherent with rage. He thought _she_ was a bitch because she wasn't happy that he was being nice to her before he killed her? "And there's the real you, Spike," she spat. "Should have known better. Won't be long 'till you threaten to rape me now".

She stormed into the living room, and he caught up to her. Forgetting her weakened condition, she whirled on him and attempted to knock him to the ground, but all she managed was making him wince in pain. He caught her wrist, roughly, and she gasped when he squeezed the bandages. "You like this better then?" he growled, backhanding her. Her head snapped back with the force, and she staggered, but he held onto her tightly. "Like it better when I hurt you?"

"Like it?" Buffy jeered. "No. But at least this way we're both clear on just what you are". She tried to pull him towards the front door of the suite.

"Where the bleeding hell do you think you're going?"

Buffy was desperate to get out of there, desperate to forget she had almost been thinking of Spike as _decent, _especially when he'd been torturing and practically raping her only yesterday. "Let's leave, alright? Put this fake, sick little fantasy day behind us and get going, get this over with. Don't you want to hurry on to Drusilla instead of loitering around with me? Get back to your regularly scheduled wicked ways?"

Spike yanked her back towards the bedroom, picking up the handcuffs from where they'd been casually laying on the coffee table. "Paid up for tonight, and we're staying. Get your sodding potty break over with, you're done for the day.

She soon found herself back in the bed, one wrist handcuffed to the center of the headboard and one ankle to the foot of the bed. She gave several experimental tugs, but she was quite stuck.

The muttering vampire shut the doors to the outside, then tossed the remote at her. "I'm going out for a bit. You can watch the telly if you're bored. Or you can scream if you want, but these walls are good and thick and there's no one else on this floor, or above or beneath us. No one'll hear you. He eyed the area around her critically, looking to see if she could escape or use anything as a weapon. Appearing satisfied, he picked up his duster off a chair, shrugged it on, and left in a swirl of black leather.

Buffy stared at the darkened TV, angry with herself. Maybe she should have played nice; she might have found an opportunity to escape. Several fruitless tugs later, all she'd managed to do was make her wounds bleed. Clicking the remote, she consoled herself with the thought that only one wrist and ankle were cuffed, so she could at least wriggle around.

* * *

Spike strode through the night, heedless of his surroundings. What on earth was wrong with him lately? _Oh, I can be good, Slayer,_ he mocked himself. _What a bleeding tosser._

He didn't know why he'd said those things to her. The truth was, without Dru, he had felt different. He still reveled in the hunt, the chase, the fight, but the thrill of the kill itself was gone. Of course he enjoyed feeding; vampire, after all, but the dark exhilaration he had felt at ending a human life was missing without his black beauty egging him on, enrapturing him with her own excitement over his kill.

Now, viewing it through the prism of Buffy's censure rather than Dru's manic glee, the act of killing seemed almost… pointless?

Had he gone daft?

And, hold on, when the hell had she become Buffy instead of the Slayer? Spike snorted in self-disgust. The same time, he supposed, that he had wanted her to realize he was, not a person, exactly, but an individual. A man, even.

There it was. He wanted her to see him as a man. He had feelings, dreams, hopes, and if that didn't make him a man, what did?

He knew what her answer would be. A soul. Like the great sodding poof. _He_ had needed a soul to behave like a man.

He kicked angrily at an empty can, then turned a corner and found himself in front of a bar. He went in and ordered himself a bottle of whiskey and a table in the corner.

Spike mulled things over. He had enjoyed talking with Buffy today. Honestly enjoyed it. She'd listened to him, and they'd had a semi-intelligent conversation. True, she was young and ignorant, but she'd been okay. It was a hell of an improvement over being with Harmony. Or even, and he felt like a traitor for admitting it, Drusilla. His princess wasn't much for conversations outside of whom to kill or barmy ramblings about the stars and Miss Edith.

Bloody Slayer. It was her fault everything was bollixed up like this. Her fault Dru had left him. Her fault she had to look so shaggable and smell so delicious and taste so sodding pure that he had kept her alive.

Now look at the sorry state he was in. Ruminating on the Slayer and her precious sanctimonious self, contemplating her passion and drive , her funny little quips, the way she never gave up. Instead of thinking about his savior, Drusilla, who had rescued him from a dreary and pathetic existence.

With each swig of whiskey, he sank further into moroseness. His sire had made him feel wicked and powerful, strong and unafraid. He'd thought that, in death, he'd felt alive for the first time. Until now. Being with Buffy today, sitting and laughing in the sunshine, he realized he felt more alive than ever.

Foolish whimsy.

Bloody Slayer.

He'd still kill her, of course. She'd been right, he might feel like playing at being a man today, but it wouldn't hold. He had no reason to give up evil. So he'd do her in, make things right with the one he belonged to, and put this lunacy behind him.

Having drunk himself sensible, Spike headed back to the hotel. After a quick check to make sure his prisoner was asleep and secure, Spike sprawled out on the couch and fell asleep.

* * *

Buffy lay in the bed and listed for sounds from the front room. She'd woken when Spike had come in, having slept fitfully for the last few hours. She had a plan, and she needed the vampire to be out cold, which, based on the smell of alcohol that had washed over her as he checked the handcuffs, was more than likely.

Still, she made herself wait another half hour on the clock, and then she turned the TV on with the volume low, to cover any noises she made. When Spike didn't come in to check on her, she edged herself as close as she could to the nightstand. She'd discovered earlier that she could just reach the phone cord. It had been a painful decision to wait until Spike had come back. She'd been afraid that it would take her awhile to get the phone pulled over to where she could dial, and she hadn't known when he would return. It would be no good if he walked in on her before her mission was completed.

So now, she hooked the phone cord with her middle finger and used it to pull the unit toward her. When it was at the very edge of the nightstand, she considered her options, and then decided it would work best if she got it onto the bed with her. Otherwise she might accidentally knock the phone off the table while dialing.

With some careful manipulation, the phone was soon right next to her, on the bed, where she could easily dial. She remained still for several minutes, making sure she was still the only one awake. While she waited, she reconsidered who to call. Her initial thought had been to call the front desk, but she would likely only get any rescuers killed. They wouldn't be prepared to deal with a vampire, never mind Spike and his Gem of Amarra. She'd considered calling Giles or Willow, but when it came down to it, there was only one person she wanted to talk to.

She wanted her mom.

Hiding the phone under the blankets to quiet any sounds, she went through the process of initiating a collect call. She whispered her name quietly when prompted, and hoped it was loud enough for her mom to understand.

It must have been, because all of a sudden she could hear her mom's breathless, worried voice say, "Buffy?"

"Mom, shhhh.."

"Buffy, oh my baby, Buffy, you're alive, where are you?" her mom cried.

"Mom, Mom, listen, we've got to be quiet, okay?"

Her mom was still sobbing, but at least it was softly now. "Honey, where are you? Did you get away from Spike".

"No, he's still got me, but I managed to get to the phone while he's sleeping. Which is why we need to be quiet". She actually wasn't too worried that he'd wake up. She already knew he slept like the dead, pun intended, and he was obviously inebriated too, but it didn't hurt to be careful. "Look, Mom, tell Giles we're in Lake Tahoe right now, and Spike's taking me across the country, I don't know where. Some place on the east coast. He plans to meet up with Drusilla".

"Is that the girl that left him?"

"The girl is well over a hundred years old, and yes. This is his latest lame-brain attempt to win her back. He's keeping me drugged -"

"That's what Angel said!"

"Oh, he's okay?" Buffy asked with relief.

"Yes, Mr. Giles called me earlier tonight, right after Angel had called him".

"Well, good. There's not too much more to add, except that we're obviously on the move now.

"Is he treating you all right? Mr. Giles wouldn't say much, but it sounded like Spike was not treating you very well".

"He _is_ a vampire, Mom," she whispered, exasperated.

"I know honey, but it's hard to remember that. He wasn't so bad when he was at our house last year. I know this is foolish to say, but I felt safe with him".

"You're not the only foolish one," Buffy muttered. "As much as I feel like a crazy person saying this, he hasn't been that awful. Today. In fact, I'm starting to think I might be -"

The words _able to talk him into letting me go_ died on her lips as she felt the phone go flying out of her hands.

With a roar, Spike ripped the cord out of the wall and smashed the phone against the opposite wall.

"Gee, now we're going to have to pay for that," Buffy tried for glib, but she still cowered under his rage.

His fangs gleamed, menacing, as he leaned over her, his voice low and terrifying. "Who were you talking to, little girl?"

"My mom!" she squeaked. "Just my mom. I didn't want her to worry about me!"

His visage melted back to human. "Joyce?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yes!" Buffy was crying now. "She… she worries about me. Because of what I do, you know? And I didn't want her to worry. I wanted her know I wasn't dead. Yet," she added.

"Oh. Right then. Well… You shouldn't have done that. Go back to sleep. We'll be leaving in the morning". With that, he turned and walked out.

She let out a shaky breath. She'd been sure he would hurt her or even kill her, but he hadn't. She decided not to worry about Spike's unpredictable behavior.

And, mission accomplished. She had talked to her mom. Buffy eventually fell back asleep, pleased with herself.

* * *

Spike lay awake in the living room, thinking. He was plenty sober now, and the unwanted thoughts rattled in his brain once more.

The Slayer had called her mother. Joyce. Nice lady, had given him a cuppa and a sympathetic ear. He didn't remember much beyond that, having been thoroughly plastered at the time, but he couldn't find anything but good thoughts for her.

Spike imagined her sitting at home, worrying about her daughter, afraid she was dead, and he felt a twinge of… guilt? Could it really be guilt? He searched his memory, his life as William, and decided that it did indeed feel like guilt. That was just going too far. Guilt was not something Spike, William the Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers bothered to feel. Not in over a century, and by all that was dark and unholy, not now.

He tried again. _Joyce_. An unpleasant pricking feeling ran through him as he thought of her frantic, desperate to see her daughter once more.

All the bleeding Slayer's fault.

Tomorrow he would get up and he would drive the Slayer as far and as fast to Atlanta as he could, before she could bollix up any more of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes:**

The Vegas trip occurs in Buffy comics (old ones, not S8 or S9).

* * *

"Be quiet as a little mouse and I'll order us some room service," Spike told her when he arose just before noon.

The fact that he had cuffed her hands together and stuffed a gag in her mouth while he said it made it pretty much impossible to do otherwise.

He took a quick shower and toweled off, slinging the towel around his waist, and busied himself packing up his duffle. As soon as breakfast arrived, he wanted to leave.

A knock sounded at the door, and he answered it, his hair still curled and damp, chest bare, feet unshod, nothing but a towel covering him. The dark, voluptuous girl with the room service cart gave a small, involuntary gasp at the sight of him, and he smiled.

Breakfast was going to be tasty.

"Come in, luv," he crooned, then reached his arm around her, 'helping' to push the cart into the suite, his bare arm brushing against her back. He guided her over to where the Slayer was sure to be able to see them through the cracked door. He had a lesson he wanted to teach her.

Strategic positioning accomplished, he set to flirting shamelessly with the raven-haired bird, by turns shy and seductive. It was a technique he'd perfected long ago, and he soon had the chit pressed up against him, arms wrapped around his neck, head thrown back in passion. Spike kissed and nuzzled and fondled her until she was shuddering, then slipped his hand into her pants, bringing her closer to climax. He vamped, yellowed eyes seeking out the Slayer's, pleased to see the intense glare she was focusing on him from where she lay bound and helpless.

Then he gently bit the girl, just as she trembled in his arms and cried out in ecstasy. She was so far gone with pleasure, she barely even registered it. Instead, she moaned in bliss and came again, then collapsed against him, spent.

Spike only drank enough to sate his hunger, not nearly enough to harm her, and subsequently carried her limp form over to the couch and laid her gently upon it, covering her with a throw.

Feeling pleased with himself, he un-gagged the Slayer. She immediately began to shriek at him. "I can't believe it! After all that bullshit yesterday about how you could choose to not be a killer, you kill that girl right in fro –mmph!" Spike had clapped a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

"She's not dead, and you'll wake her up. I gave the bird a good time, and she's going to remember me fondly for the rest of her life". He unclasped her mouth. "You _saw_, Buffy. She wasn't frightened or in pain. She _enjoyed_ it. Now how is that evil?"

"Because… because you still bit her! She didn't ask for that!"

The vampire shrugged. "She didn't seem to mind. And she's going to recover just fine". Buffy glared at him more, but didn't appear to have a retort. He finished dressing and shrugged on his coat. "It's time to go. I'd like to walk out of here without making a scene. Can we do that?"

The Slayer didn't answer.

"You throw up a fuss, all that's going to happen is you're going to get people hurt. Nobody here can stop me, and I won't have any compunction about stopping them. Understand?"

"What about the food?" Buffy sulked.

"Hungry little thing," Spike laughed. "I asked for it to be boxed to go. I won't let you starve".

"Thanks. You're too kind," she muttered sarcastically.

* * *

Buffy watched the Nevada scenery speed by. It had been pretty at first, but now it was monotonous. Spike had left her upright in the back seat this time, rigging a system of restraints that allowed her to use her hands to feed herself, but not much more. After several hours like this, she was bored, bored, bored, with nothing but her brain to occupy her.

Her thoughts were no less confused than they had been the day before. Spike was still on his 'I don't have to be evil' campaign, and it was hard to wrap her mind around. He'd been telling the truth that he hadn't killed the girl.

She'd insisted on checking the quiescent form before they left, and like the vampire had said, the girl was simply in a peaceful sleep. Her heartbeat was strong, and the punctures on her neck barely showed. She had a blissed-out, dreamy expression.

Thinking back on it, Buffy squirmed uneasily. Spike had made the whole thing seem so… _sexy_. And that was just wrong. Right? Surely the act of biting was still evil. At least, evil-light. Who would consent to that if they knew it was going to happen? It's not like he'd asked his victim's permission.

But the fact remained that Spike had not only left her alive, he hadn't even hurt her in any way, if you didn't count the small holes in her neck. She didn't know what to make of it. Could a vampire go his whole life like that? Was a semi-willing victim any worse than stealing bagged human blood, like Angel had? She knew he drank pig's blood now, but he hadn't always. It was a lot to consider.

Her mind drifted to the contrast between Spike and Angel. It was painful to think about. Spike was definitely crude, and disgusting, and downright evil, but he'd shown her he could control his behavior, at least for short amounts of time when he wanted to, when he seemed to want to be in her good graces. Without a soul or a conscience or even any encouragement from her.

Whereas Angel, the minute he had lost his soul, had become pure evil, despite having professed feelings for her hours before. If Spike could care about what she thought and choose to be un-evil without a soul, why couldn't Angel as Angelus? What did it mean that he didn't? Was his love real?

Even more worrisome was the way Angel had reacted when they'd both been tied up. Spike could have been lying about his grand-sire being excited, but Buffy suspected not. Angel had seemed ashamed enough. Was Spike telling the truth that Angel and Angelus were no different? It couldn't be. An ensouled Angel behaved totally differently. She still firmly believed that having a soul mattered.

She suspected the real question was why Spike was so different from other vampires despite not having a soul.

Her head hurt from it all. There were no answers to be had. None that made sense to her.

She wriggled around more. The lack of distraction from her disturbing thoughts made her surly.

She watched the back of Spike's head for awhile, unable to see his visage in the mirror. His hair was still tousled and curly, not slicked-back like usual. It made her think of the way he'd looked earlier, fresh from the shower. And that made her think of what had happened with the room service girl all over again. It was a conundrum, and she couldn't figure out how she felt about it.

Buffy had a panicked moment when she realized that one of the feelings she'd had as Spike had seduced the girl was jealousy. Okay, she didn't want his attention, and she would surely reject him every time he tried, but… Watching him touch another woman, knowing what that mouth and those fingers could do, knowing how he was making the gasping girl feel… she'd definitely been a tiny bit jealous.

Oookay, it was time to stop the crazy-making carousel ride inside her brain. Time for a distraction.

"Hey!" she shouted to the front of the car. "I'm bored. I need to pee".

"Well, which is it?"

"Both". She gave the scenery a black look. "Are we there yet?"

"Are we _where_?" he retorted, exasperated. "We're in the middle of bleeding nowhere! Has anyone ever told you you have the attention span of a gnat, Slayer?"

"This is your stupid road trip. I didn't ask to go along. You see how you like spending all your time tied up with nothing to do". She felt like a little kid, trying to get Daddy's attention because, even angry, it was better than being ignored.

One brief stop at a deserted off-ramp later, Buffy had wrangled her way into the front seat.

"Come on," she'd whined, "You can tie me up like you did in the back, so I can't escape. Just… let me sit up with you. We can talk, or something. I'm bored back there".

Spike had given her a suspicious stare, but he'd complied. And now they sat together in the front in silence, giving each other edgewise looks.

"What?" he huffed when she'd peeked at him for the dozenth time.

"Aren't you going to say anything? You always have something to say".

"No. This was your idea. I was fine. If you wanna talk, you talk".

"Fine," she grumped, and turned away from him. It wasn't much better up front after all. Before much time had passed, she began squirming around again, bored once more.

"Don't you know how to sit still?" Spike growled. "I'm gonna knock you out if you don't stop it".

"I'm bored, alright?"

"Heaven save us, can't you amuse yourself? I thought it was an American pastime, going on long car rides, all the little kiddies in tow".

"I've never been in a car this long".

Spike looked at her, surprised. "Really? Mummy and Daddy never packed you up on some long car trip?"

Shaking her head bemusedly, she replied, "No, Dad was always too busy to go on vacation. I've never really been anywhere except my aunt's and she's only a few hours away".

"You've missed out then, Slayer. Lots of interesting stuff to see out there".

"Yeah, well, right now I'm not seeing it. I'm just seeing trees and desert. Mile after mile of the same thing". After a moment, she added, "I did go to Vegas once. It might have been fun, except it wasn't a vacation".

"Oh?"

"It was a Slayer thing. Vampires to deal with. Before I moved to Sunnydale. There was this guy that took me, I kind of ran away with him". Spike pinned her with a look. "Not like that. He was only helping me. He wanted to be, like, my slaying partner, but things got hairy and…"

"And what?"

"And he left. Left me there," Buffy finished quietly.

"The tosser left a little girl alone in Vegas?" He was indignant on her behalf.

"I wasn't that little! Well, okay, I was pretty young, but I did alright. I'm not like other girls".

"No, you definitely aren't. Who was this wanker?"

"Pike," Buffy replied. "Hey, that's funny! Pike – Spike! He's like you!"

"I'm sure he's nothing like me," he muttered.

Eyeing him critically, she said, "I dunno. He thought he was a bad boy rebel too".

"Difference is, I don't _think_ I'm a bad boy. I _am_". Buffy had nothing to say to that.

After a while, Spike asked, "You've never been anywhere else?"

"I've been to Disney of course. San Diego. Oh, when I was eight, we went to D.C., and I got lost at the Smithsonian. I just remembered. That's the only big family vacation we've ever gone on. Dad would always say next year, but it never happened. The year before he left, he'd talked about taking us to Spain. I guess he took his secretary instead." Her face fell.

"You didn't miss much," he consoled her.

"Really?"

"Well, no. Spain's got some neat things. Like the running of the bulls". He examined the ring on his finger. "I could go stand in the streets and watch now, if I wanted, instead from inside". He turned to her, animated. "See, some idiot always gets himself gored, right, and there's blood streaming everywhere, and in the past I'd have to stay inside, smelling it…" he trailed off at the look on her face.

"Uh, yeah. Spain's neat," he said instead.

Buffy just shook her head. She figured there wasn't much point in getting upset; it wasn't like she could change it, and at least this way she had something to do. Something to distract her from her own stupid thoughts.

"Where else have you been?" she asked.

The subject of Spike's travels took them through the rest of Nevada and into the mountains of Utah. Buffy was extremely jealous of how many places he'd been. True, he'd had to cut most of his tales short, since they all seemed to end in bloodshed and carnage, but it was still interesting.

"That's cool. I've always wanted to travel, see the places you've been".

"Maybe I could take you," he offered unthinkingly.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. "Would this be before or after you kill me?"

"Oh, right". They were both silent.

When they came upon Salt Lake City, it was night, and after the absence of civilization, the city glowed before them. "Oooh, pretty. Isn't this where that Mormon temple thing-y is?" Buffy pressed her face up against the window. "I wonder what it looks like. My grandma had a CD from the Tabernacle Choir. She told me she'd been there and it was interesting".

Without a word, Spike took the appropriate exit, and they cruised past Temple Square, lit up in the night.

"Never seen this before," he said as they circled the block, ogling the sight.

"Too bad it's too late to take a tour," Buffy remarked, eyeing the closed gates.

"We could go in if you wanted". She turned to him. He was completely serious.

"Thanks," she laughed, amused by how earnest he was, "but somehow breaking into church grounds for a little tourism doesn't seem right".

"Pffft. Who cares," Spike scoffed.

"I care," Buffy said gravely.

"Right. Do-gooder. Won't forget again". Spike sped up the street and returned to the highway.

Buffy watched him as he drove. He seemed upset, and she wondered if he was insulted that she hadn't wanted to do a little breaking-and-entering with him. Sometimes, he was impossible to understand. After more consideration, she realized that he'd probably only driven by the Temple because she had expressed interest. It was bizarrely thoughtful of him. So she took a breath and said, "Thanks. For taking the detour".

"S'nothing," Spike dismissed her, and drove onwards in silence through the winding mountain roads.

Buffy dozed for a bit, then woke when they made a gas and restroom stop in some podunk town just across the Wyoming border. After she was re-settled in her rope restraints, he handed her a bag filled with convenience store food and she pawed through it, looking for something remotely healthy. She found a bottle of juice and opened it.

Taking a long swig, she asked without looking at him, "So, tell me, are we still operating on the same plan? The 'me: Slayer, you: vampire, mortal enemies to the end' one? Because, call me crazy if you want, I'm not feeling it anymore".

"You're the one who keeps reminding _me_ of it, _Slayer_".

"True. But I'm starting to think you might be on to something. You're not half bad when you're not all evil. I don't feel like killing you quite as much. I was hoping you'd feel the same way".

"What are you getting at?" Spike sat slouched behind the wheel, staring straight ahead, refusing to give her any indication of his mood.

Buffy put her idea to talk Spike into letting her go into action. "Welllll… I was kinda hoping you were reconsidering the 'feed me to Drusilla' plan. Maybe even thinking about letting me go, since you don't seem to be quite so angry as before. You know, you go your less-evil way, I go home, we all live happily ever after…"

His face hardened. "No".

Buffy sighed. So much for easy. "We're still on for Buffy's death at the hands of the loony ho-bag vampire, then?"

Spike angrily lit a cigarette. "Shut up," he said through a cloud of smoke, turning his music on, the blaring noise making it clear conversation was over.

She leaned against the smooth, cool window and stared bleakly out into the night. "I suppose that means we're still mortal enemies, huh?"

* * *

Spike heard her comment, even though he didn't outwardly react to it. Inside, though, he was a roiling mass of emotions.

As daft as it sounded, the problem was that after all this time, all this effort, he _didn't _want to kill the Slayer.

Sure, on paper he did. Bag his third Slayer. Return to his glorious, wicked princess a conquering hero. Resume his rightful place at her side, wreaking death and destruction in the world. Yeah, sounded grand.

But then. He'd think about a world without this particular Slayer in it. A world without _Buffy_. And the whole of his immortal existence seemed gray and meaningless. It brought him no pleasure to imagine her smile forever quenched, her annoyingly perky little voice forever silenced.

No, instead, it made him want to howl in agony.

Drusilla, the barmy bint, had been right. The Slayer was floating all around him. Mocking him. Making him into something he wasn't. Making him feel things he shouldn't, like guilt and shame. He didn't like it. It left him confused and angry and in a right buggering mess.

In over a hundred years, there had always been one sure solution to solving any problems he'd found himself in. Kill whatever was causing it. Was it any wonder his mind still persisted on telling him to stick with the plan and kill the Slayer? Surely, once she was dead, he'd forget all this foolishness, and all the confusion and painful feelings would be gone.

So, yeah, he'd told her he still planned on killing her. Even if he felt like begging her forgiveness in the next breath.


	9. Chapter 9

Buffy had dozed on and off for the rest of the night. At some point, Spike must have picked up a bottle of bourbon, or maybe there'd been one in the jumble of bottles in the back of the car, and he'd been steadily drinking for the last 100 miles or so. She kept shooting him little glances, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to say something. She decided worse, since he stalwartly refused to look at her.

Eventually, he took one of the exits in North Platte, Nebraska, of all places. A glance at the clock showed her they'd been driving for almost 24 hours straight. Hopefully he was ready to pull over.

"'M bushed," Spike confirmed, slurring his words, as he cruised the town checking out the motels. He settled on the seediest, most deserted one he could find, and after a few moments in the lobby, returned to the DeSoto, driving around back. The second-floor room they were in faced an open field cornfield, and the entire parking lot was deserted except for a small cluster of motorbikes at the complete opposite end.

He barely allowed her a moment to stretch before patting the only bed in the room. "C'mere," he mumbled. "Need to get you tied up. Can't have you bein' a bad girl while I sleep".

Seeing the state he was in, Buffy tensed to run, sure this was the opportunity she'd been waiting for, but he was on her in a flash, pinning her to the bed. "Said can' have you bein' bad," he repeated as he efficiently tied her wrists behind her back and her ankles together. "You're mine. My pretty li'l Slayer. You stay with me. Always stay with me".

Buffy wasn't sure if he even knew what he was saying, but his incoherence didn't seem to extend to his thorough securing of the room. He ripped the phone out of the wall, rendering it useless, tossed the spindly chair outside and over the balcony (_there go my stakes_, she thought), shut the blinds tight, and then collapsed next to her, pulling her into his embrace and holding her tightly, one leg thrown over her for good measure. Buffy was completely trapped.

"Buffy… stay…" he said into her neck as he nuzzled her closer and fell almost instantly into a deep sleep.

_How long am I going to be stuck like this?_ she wondered under his dead weight. Before long, however, his grip on her relaxed, and she was able to worm her way out from under him. She lay on her side, panting from the exertion, carefully considering her options.

This was the moment she'd been waiting for, she knew it. Since he was unrelentingly determined to kill her, she had to make a break for it. Although tied up, she wasn't secured to the bed in any way. If she were careful, she could move about. Spike had never looked as dead as he did at the moment. She could probably blow a trumpet in his ear without waking him. Nevertheless, she remembered the last time she'd thought him fast asleep. She had to be very cautious.

Okay, then. Things to take into account. She was as weak as any woman, thanks to Spike impassively administering another injection of Cruciamentum drugs during a pit stop earlier in the day. Her hands were tied behind her back, and he'd tied them somehow so she couldn't slip them down over her legs and to the front. That restricted their usefulness, plus her ankles were also bound, guaranteeing she'd have limited mobility. And he still had the ring, making him invulnerable even to the blazing afternoon sun.

Even if she could get out the door without waking him, how far away was she likely to get before his predator senses woke him up and had him after her? With his pesky new tolerance of the sun and sharp pointy bits of wood, she didn't have a chance.

First order of business: try to slip the ring off his finger. Without that bit of jewelry, her options for evading him or killing him increased dramatically. Luck was on her side; the ring was on the hand that was next to her body. All she had to do was flip over and slip it off from behind her back. Easy peasy!

Several frustrating minutes later, the ring was still on his finger. She'd managed to glide it to the first knuckle, but it was stuck there. It needed lubricant to slip off. Steeling herself, she flipped back over and wormed her way down the bed, then spit on his finger. She did it again for good measure. When she'd repositioned herself, this time the ring came off with a few twisty tugs. She froze as Spike muttered and reached for her, wrapping his arm over her, but within moments he relaxed again.

She tucked the ring inside her back pocket. First step achieved! Now what? Could she kill him? In her weakened state and with her hands behind her back, she didn't see how. She hadn't the strength to either rip a piece of wood off the furniture for a stake, or to plunge it in. And was this cheap motel furniture even wood? She couldn't be sure. Better to not attempt it. She ran through the other methods for dusting a vamp. No way to decapitate him. Even though he'd closed the blinds, the sun wasn't actually shining in this window. She was fresh out of holy water. So dusting him wasn't an option.

She heard herself sigh with disgruntled amazement. Did she actually feel relieved she couldn't kill him? Ridiculous.

Since killing him wasn't likely, running away seemed like the best bet. This could be done. Hop to the door. Open it. Hop outside, down the corridor. Slide down the stairs, and into the sun. He wouldn't be able to reach her there, not now that she had the ring. Surely she could get that far before he realized she was gone.

She set to it. Wriggle to the edge of the bed. Check. Prop yourself upright. Check. Hop quietly to the door. Check. Opening the door backwards proved to be a challenge, but she managed it. Despite being weaker than normal, she was still agile and athletic. The door creaked a little, but Spike didn't stir.

She glided silently through the crack she'd created, using her weight as a ballast to keep the door from slamming shut behind her. No waiting now to see if he'd woken, no need to be quiet. Her legs quivered as she hopped as quickly as possible to the staircase, then she sat down and scooted down the steps one at a time, like a baby learning to go down the stairs.

Just as she reached the bottom, a door opened on the far end of the motel, next to the motorbikes. A scruffy, greasy man stepped outside, but he didn't see her. His unkempt appearance made her nervous, but she consoled herself with the thought that he couldn't be any worse than the demon she was fleeing.

She wrenched herself upwards and hopped away from the building, into the sun-drenched parking lot. Hop hop hop. Scruffy saw her. He didn't say a word, just watched her. "Help?" Buffy ventured.

"Hey! Donny! Mal! Lookee what we got here!" Two other men stepped out of the door Scruffy had exited. They made him look positively dapper.

Buffy had a bad feeling. An out of the frying pan and into the fire feeling, based on the way they were looking at her. Hop hop hop. She headed the other way. "You know what guys, I think I've got things covered," she called out. "I don't need help after all".

A glance over her shoulder told her she wasn't going to be so lucky. "That's not a very nice way to treat your rescuers," Scruffy said from behind her.

"She's like a pretty little present, all wrapped up for us to open up and play with," Scruffier added, his predatory smile showing off a mouth full of blackened stumps for teeth. "We gonna have some fun! Who d'you think left her here for us?"

"She's not for _you_!" a voice roared, and abruptly Spike was at the second floor walkway in full game face, snarling bestially. "She's MINE!" The men, who had been about to close in on Buffy, backed off as Spike vaulted to the sunlit railing, but paused in their retreat when he fell back, screaming in agony as his flesh began to burn.

"SLAYER!" he howled in indignation. "Where is it?"

Her newest captors, realizing the beast was trapped by the light, had taken hold of her and began dragging her, thrashing and flailing, towards their bikes.

"I have your ring!" she screamed to Spike.

"Hush, cunt, or we gonna fuck you up!" someone snarled in her ear, fetid breath washing over her, and she realized in that moment that these humans were far worse monsters than the vampire she'd escaped from.

"Spike! Help!" she called to him. "I'll give it back to you, please, just – owww!" she cried out as one of them punched her in the mouth.

Suddenly, Spike was there, shiny threadbare motel comforter over his head, bellowing a war cry and knocking down bodies. "In my back pocket!" Buffy gasped. The comforter blanketed her in darkness, and sizzling, smoking skin pressed up against her face as Spike thrust his hands into her pockets. She could feel the lump of the ring slide out, and then the comforter was thrown away and Spike stood there, legs spread apart, hands on hips.

"What part of _mine_ didn't you understand?" he asked dangerously, yellow eyes gleaming with an unholy light. Buffy was so relieved he was there, she didn't even care about the disturbingly possessive statement. The terrified men began to flee and Spike laughed, a chilling sound.

Then he was after them. She closed her eyes, unwilling to witness the carnage. She tried to bring herself to care that there was a vicious vampire slaughtering humans before her very tightly squeezed eyes, but she couldn't. As the sounds of screaming died away, the terror she'd felt washed out of her, and her whole body shuddered and quaked, tears streaming down her face.

Before she knew it, strong arms were scooping her up, holding her close to a body that smelled of smoke and blood, and she sobbed limply in his arms. "I don't want to die! I don't want to be raped and I don't want to die! I want to live and I want to see my mom and my friends and Giles," she blubbered. "Is that really so unreasonable?"

There was no answer. She felt Spike carry her into the motel room and ease himself slowly down onto the bed, holding her tightly and stroking her hair. Buffy continued crying, aware of the paradox of taking comfort from the one who was holding her against her will.

Her crying slowed, and she grasped the elusive thought that Spike had saved her. Still limp against him, she asked, "Why did you rescue me?"

She could feel him shifting uneasily beneath her. "You're mine to kill, aren't you?"

"Is that all?" she hiccupped.

He held her tighter. "No". He lowered his lips to her brow, placed a soft kiss on it, left his mouth resting there. "You're just mine," he said against her skin.

"I'm not," she protested weakly. "Not yours. I won't belong to you".

"I know. But it's my fault you can't protect yourself from garbage like that. Makes you my responsibility".

"Oh". She shivered as their leering faces loomed over her again. "I didn't care that you killed them," she confessed into his chest, feeling like the worst Slayer ever.

"Don't. They'd given up their humanity long ago, luv. If monsters like that have souls, they're as black as the deepest hell and not worth anything". She shivered again at his words.

Spike placed her upon the bed and undid the ropes binding her, rubbing her still-bandaged wrists tenderly. He lay down next to her and pulled the remaining blankets over them, then tucked her into his arms and stroked her hair soothingly, trying to calm her shaking. Buffy yawned, overcome with adrenaline letdown. "Thanks. For saving me. You're not such a bad vampire," she murmured sleepily.

She quickly fell asleep, so she didn't hear him say, "For you".

* * *

Spike woke hours later to find the Slayer still sleeping, cuddled in his arms. He bit back a smile. The Big Bad didn't smile like a foolish git because his mortal enemy was warm and pliant in his arms. Warm and pliant and safe and _alive_.

He gave an involuntary growl and tensed as the memory of what had happened earlier returned to him, then forced himself to relax with a tortured sigh. He knew he was well and truly buggered. He'd told the Slayer she was his, his to control, his to protect, but the truth was, he was hers now. Any lingering misconceptions that he intended to kill her had flown right out the window when those fools had tried to hurt her.

He smiled coldly as he recalled his retaliation. The disquieting feelings he'd been fighting all night had left him spoiling for a good fight and a good kill. Those ill-begotten tossers had provided him with both. They weren't his usual sort of prey, but fresh hot blood was fresh hot blood, and he'd felt no twinge of guilt at making a meal of them.

He hadn't killed since Tahoe, despite having taken a few meals on the way. Thinking of Joyce despairing over her daughter had led him to wonder about other mothers who might feel grief over their children, the ones he might have made meals of. He didn't feel remorse, or guilt, not at all, but he did decide he didn't mind saving them from that grief. He had a bit of a soft spot for loving mothers, truth be told, even if he'd never let it affect his demonic nature before. It wasn't something he would readily admit to.

Not killing was just another change in the fantastic sea of transformations that had been happening to him in the last week. Spike had no idea what it meant, or if it was permanent, but he decided at that very moment to stop fighting the strange urges to change and see where they led him.

The question was what to do now. He had no intention of taking Buffy to Drusilla. He didn't want to just let her go, either. There was _something_ happening between them, he felt sure of it, but he suspected that if she returned to her life in Sunnydale, her mates and her Watcher would poison her mind against him all over again, and whatever this was would be over.

What terrified him and exhilarated him at the same time was the knowledge that it wasn't lust he felt for her any longer, but more, and he hoped she might feel it too. His earlier plans of getting her to beg him to shag her seemed laughable. He had a much loftier goal to shoot for.

He wanted her to love him.

He knew it was a pipe dream, but he was as much love's bitch as ever and he couldn't help but try for the impossible.

So he had to keep her with him. Would she stay voluntarily, or did he need to keep up the charade of keeping her captive? He didn't know. She'd said she wanted to travel, see the sights. Would she let him take her?

* * *

"If you could go anywhere in the States, where would it be?" he asked over an early morning breakfast in a small diner the next day.

"Hawai'i," came the answer.

"Anywhere we could drive," he amended.

She gave him a curious look, but quickly rattled off, "New York City. The museums in Chicago. Graceland. The Grand Canyon. Yellowstone. Mardi Gras. Cape Canaveral. A big amusement park".

Spike chuckled, his blue eyes flashing in amusement. "Given this some thought, have you?"

"I used to plan family vacations," she admitted sheepishly, trailing the pancake on her fork through a puddle of syrup. "Back when I still believed Dad would take us on one". She studied him. "Why?"

"What if took you on one? Did a bit of sight-seeing like you want?" he said carefully, neutrally, keeping his eyes on the pancake he was currently dousing with hot sauce.

"Another detour? A Make-A-Wish gift to the soon-to-be-dead girl?"

"Summat like that," he replied casually. "What would you say?"

Buffy gave an incredulous laugh. "I'd say you were the strangest vampire I'd ever met and a whole heap crazier than I thought". His face closed off, and she added, "But if you were serious, I wouldn't say no". She waved her unbound hands in his face. "Especially if I can stay rope-free girl".

He gave her a severe look. "Only if you swear not to try to run away again. Or stake me. We can have fun, like I promised you before".

"You mean, if I pretend you're my friend and not my captor?" Spike shrugged. "And again I can't help but wonder, why?"

"Feel bad you've never gone anywhere when you so obviously want to". She cocked an eyebrow at him and he said, "S'true. A girl shouldn't die 'till she's seen a bit of the world".

"Well, by all means, make me your charity project and soothe your troubled conscience. Where do I get to go?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Notes:**

The story of Spike's visit to the World Fair was published by IDW comics.

Which reminds me, Spike and co. are not mine but that Joss Whedon guy's.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Buffy found herself admiring the Chicago skyline in the twilit evening as they walked along the shore. Spike had vetoed any destinations that required back tracking, and they'd agreed on an itinerary that included the Windy City, an amusement park in Ohio, Niagara Falls, and NYC. Buffy wasn't sure why she was playing along, but she was. Her life had taken a turn to the surreal that she didn't dare examine too closely.

Especially considering that she was honoring her word she'd given to an evil, soulless demon, and not trying to escape or kill him, despite having ample opportunity.

She supposed it had something to do with still being grateful to him for rescuing her from a fate worse than the one he'd planned for her. And the fact that he was making it hard for her to remember that he was a notoriously vicious vampire.

Somehow, in the space of a week, Spike had transformed from a raping serial killer to her own personal tour guide of America's greatest wonders, and a solicitous and entertaining one at that. It boggled the mind, and her poor mind was already over-boggled, so she had decided to simply quit thinking about it and accept it.

Not only that, but without meaning to he was giving her a chance to be the normal girl she hadn't been in years. Deprived of her powers, away from the Hellmouth and all that reminded her of her sacred duties, there wasn't anything to do but be normal. As far as she could, considering she was the quasi-prisoner of a vampire whose stated intention was to drain her dry. So long as she ignored that fact, it was an average, all-American road trip.

"It looks so different from LA," she remarked, feeling foolishly young as soon as the words left her mouth.

Spike didn't make fun of her. He was too busy trying to wrangle his wind-whipped hair back under control without any luck. Even his copious amounts of hair gel were no match for the Chicago wind.

Buffy giggled. "Leave it," she told him, reaching up and mussing it further. "I like the curls".

"I don't," Spike said sourly. "Makes me look a nancy poodle".

"What does that mean, 'nancy'? I swear you don't speak English. Half the time I have no idea what you're talking about".

"Not my fault you're an ignorant little girl," he groused.

She stuck her tongue out at him and took his hand, giggling again. "Come on Mr. Bad Moody!" she tugged him along, "Take me out to dinner. Fatten me up for the slaughter".

Yes, Spike's craziness had obviously infected her too, and now she was glibly joking about her own death, but only because she'd come to believe he no longer meant it. She suspected that if she asked him again to let her go, he would. She found she didn't want to though. She wanted her vacation first.

She told herself it was only because he owed her for the suffering he'd put her through, and not because she was enjoying his company. And besides, even if Spike didn't kill her, something else was sure to do so soon enough. She deserved a vacation before she died.

When they went to bed that night, Spike flopped onto the sole bed, clad only in his jeans, and held his arms open. "Let me hold you tonight," he invited.

Buffy shifted uneasily from foot to foot while he waited, completely ignoring the little voice that was noticing what a delicious picture he presented. She'd been flabbergasted when she'd awoken in his arms in the pale dawn light that morning, feeling completely rested and safer than she ever had. A glance at the clock had told her that she'd slept for over twelve hours. It had been one thing then, terrified and as exhausted as she'd been the afternoon before, to let him hold her.

But this was another step, another change in their relationship that defied reason.

_This isn't who I am_, she thought as she crawled up the bed and snuggled into him. _I've been replaced by a pod person. How on earth am I ever going to explain this when I get home?_

She wouldn't be able to.

* * *

Spike was pulling out all the stops, she reflected the next day. He'd ordered room service and fed her breakfast in bed. He'd taken her to the Shedd Aquarium, the Field Museum, and the Adler Planetarium, which he'd seemed to be as fascinated by as she was. And now they were strolling along Navy Pier. Spike pointed to the giant Ferris wheel. "S'a replica of the first one, you know. The one that Ferris made for the World's Fair in 1893".

"Did you see it?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Nah. Was still in Europe. Course I wanted to. The World's Fair Exhibitions were a big deal back then". He gazed wistfully at the slowly rotating wheel.

"Did come to the Chicago Fair in '33 though. That was a lark. There was this Sky Ride thing. And the Dream Cars exhibit". He laughed, lost in memory. "Guess there wasn't much left after I got through with it. What?" he said at her look. "It wasn't my fault! There were these little Chinese fellas after me... Always was disappointed there wasn't a Ferris wheel, though".

Buffy took his hand. "Well, come on, let's ride that bad boy!" Spike gave her a surprised grin, and they took their place in line. "Have you ever ridden a Ferris wheel?" she asked while they waited.

"Oddly enough, I haven't".

"Oooh, you're a virgin. Hope you don't get scared when we're up top and need me to hold you!" she teased.

"Not bloody likely," he retorted.

After they were ensconced in their car and began the stop-and-go ascent, Buffy's grip on the side tightened. Spike noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Fine, you caught me. I'm scared of Ferris wheels. I don't like sitting at the top, all high-up and exposed. Wigs me out".

Her companion gave a satisfied smirk. "Hope you don't think I'm going to hold _you_, Slayer. Wouldn't want you to take advantage of me like that, since I'm the quivering virgin here".

"Pig," she replied, but she scooted closer to him, and he wrapped his arm loosely around her.

"Why'd you want to come on this thing if you're so scared of it?"

"Pfft. Not scared. I'm the Slayer, I'm not scared of anything," she said with false bravado, but then emitted a tiny 'eep' as the wheel jerked into motion and laughed shakily. "I could tell you wanted to ride it," she admitted.

"You did it for me?" Spike asked, perplexed.

"Well, yeah. That's what friends do," she replied as if it were obvious. His arm tightened around her.

As they paused at the top, she covered her eyes and repeated, "Please don't let there be any gusts of wind, please don't let there be any gusts of wind" over and over like a prayer.

Spike's hands gently tugged hers away. "Summers, look!" The awe in his voice made her curious, and she opened her eyes, taking in the stunning view. She could see for miles.

"Ooh," she breathed. "It's amazing".

"Innit?"

When the wheel started its revolutions without pause, Buffy kept her eyes open, but along with the view she watched Spike's face. His bright blue eyes were wide with boyish wonder, and seeing his face glow with enchantment under the afternoon sun made something in her chest catch. He was beautiful and innocent-looking. She could see the boy he must have once been and it was entrancing.

The next time the wheel came to a rocking stop at the top, he broke out into a delighted smile. Buffy took his chin in her hand and kissed him softly, her lips just brushing his.

Spike leaned away from her, looking at her in startled amazement. She blushed and turned away, fingers picking anxiously at a thread on her sweater.

"Is this what friends do too?" she heard him ask lowly.

Her blush intensified. "You looked… sweet…"

He made a choking sound. "Sweet?" he spluttered.

"Innocent?"

"Oi! No need to insult me!"

She finally looked up at him, and his outrage made her giggle. "Pure".

"Now I know you're having me on. 'M not pure, woman," he growled, but a small smile played about his lips nevertheless.

When they got off the ride, he was still smiling.

A short time later, Spike came to a stop in front of a building that proclaimed itself the Shakespeare Theater, reading the marquee to himself. Buffy glanced at it too, and seeing "Much Ado About Nothing", quickly lost interest.

"Fancy a night at the theater, pet?"

"What, a Shakespeare play? Are you serious?"

"Well, yeah".

"I don't get Shakespeare. The people all talk funny and I can never understand what they're saying".

He gave her a disgusted look. "Illiterate chit. You should try watching a professional play. Much easier to follow than trying to read it in a book at school".

"Don't tell me _you_ like Shakespeare," she scoffed.

He was affronted. "I damn well do. The bard was a genius". He glanced at the ticket booth. "If they have good seats, we're going. Consider it my gift to the world to improve the sludge between your ears that you call a mind".

He strode forward in a swirl of black leather, and Buffy hurried after him. "We can't go to the theater!"

"Why the hell not?"

"I have nothing to wear!" With a pointed look at his clothing, she added, "You have nothing to wear!"

He squinted at the sky. "We should have just enough time to get some proper togs. Come on, it'll be fun, getting dressed up fancy-like".

"What, so I can be bored _and_ uncomfortable all night? I thought this was _my_ vacation," she pouted, not letting on that the idea of seeing Spike in evening wear intrigued her enough that she would go to his stupid play just for that.

He ignored her protests, talking animatedly to the lady at the ticket counter. He turned back to her with two tickets in hand. "We're in luck! Great seats!"

"Yay," she answered unenthusiastically.

Spike took both her hands in his and looked down at her, his face intent and hopeful, his eyes wide, his innocent expression a sharp contrast to his punk appearance. "Please?" he asked sweetly. "For your friend?"

She laughed despite herself. "You're evil".

He leered at her, bit his lip naughtily. "Yeah, but you love it baby". Ugh, it wasn't fair that he could be so sexy.

Buffy only rolled her eyes and pulled her hands out of his. "Shopping time's a-wasting. Let's go".

* * *

Buffy needed a drink of water. She'd been swallowing repeatedly for what seemed like hours now, little gulps of surprise and breathless admiration and suppressed desire and even a slight case of feelings of inadequacy.

The man in the seat next to her was not Spike. From the moment he'd walked out of the dressing room wearing a black tuxedo and shiny dress shoes, Spike had been nowhere to be found. Instead, this _gentleman_, this obviously well-bred man, had escorted her to the theater.

She suspected they'd all been fooled by his rough accent and rougher ways, and that William wasn't the thug he passed himself off as before he was turned. You couldn't fake breeding like this. He made that Wesley guy look like a redneck yokel. No wonder he'd laughed so hard when she'd called him a degenerate.

Now she sat there, trying to follow the play and completely failing, distracted as she was by Spike. No, not Spike, William. Every few moments he'd lean over her and whisper explanations into her ear, and each time she'd flinch at the unaccustomed cultured voice she heard. It sounded like Giles was in her ear, but that would be worse, because then the little bursts of electricity she felt whenever his shoulder brushed her bare one would be wrong.

Not that having these feelings about Spike wasn't wrong either.

Seeing him in anything but his customary attire was shocking enough, but the change in looks reminded her just how insanely gorgeous he was, something that she tried to ignore when he was plain old Spike. She couldn't ignore it now, or the desire that was snaking through her. Images of him pressed between her thighs, lips glistening, fluttered through her mind, leaving her anxious. Those memories were not of the good and they left her trembling in confusion.

When the curtains fell for intermission, Spike (_William_) stood, and with a slight bow, offered her his arm. "Would you accompany me to the mezzanine for refreshments, Miss Summers?" Not trusting her voice, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead her out. Once there he purchased two glasses of champagne, and she sipped hers slowly despite the urge to gulp it down. She felt inferior to a _vampire_, for crying out loud, and she didn't like it at all.

The sense of inadequacy was made worse when Spike engaged in a conversation about the play with several of the patrons, as if he did this every night. Buffy stood there uncomfortably and tried desperately to give the impression of being more than arm candy, but there was no way she could participate without sounding like a fool. She still didn't even know what the play was about.

At least, she thought morosely, she looked like very nice arm candy. Spike had bought her a long, slim green evening dress that left her shoulders and back bare, and a pair of shoes to die for. After, he had helped her with her hair too, which no longer struck her as odd.

Conversation over, her date led her away from the throng, and for a moment he was just Spike again. "Are you having a good time, pet? We can leave if you're not".

She gave him a grateful smile. "No. I'm just better at hitting the ugly things that go bump in the night than mingling with high class society in evening wear. Not exactly my scene. But I want to stay. Will you explain what's happening to me again?"

The lights flicked, and he led back into the theater, re-telling her the tale of the sickly sweet love-struck pair, Claudio and Hero, and the far more sarcastic Beatrice and Benedick, who were secretly in love with each other despite the witty barbs they constantly traded.

Buffy enjoyed the second half more as she found herself caught up in the flow of the dialogue. On the taxi ride back to the hotel, she told him, "I'd rather be like Beatrice and Benedick than the other two. They were a lot more fun".

"Mmm. Beatrice could give your sharp little tongue a run for its money. She's a clever one. My kind of girl," he replied obliquely.

"Starry-eyed romance is overrated," she agreed. "If a guy can't handle a steady stream of insults then he's just not worth keeping around".


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for all the lovely reviews! If you're enjoying, I love hearing about it!

* * *

"Would you like to call your mum before we go? Let her know you're fine?" Spike offered the next morning when the alarm woke them at seven.

Buffy yawned and rolled over in his arms to look up at him. He stifled an urge to cover her with kisses. He knew without a doubt that she was his Beatrice, and he didn't want to scare her off.

"You'd really let me?" she questioned, biting her lip, and he had to roll away before he took that lip between his own teeth. He was fairly certain friends didn't do that.

"'Course. Don't want Joyce to think poorly of me," he jested. Ponce that he was, he really didn't.

He slipped on a t-shirt and his boots and picked up the tuxedo. "I'll go give this to the concierge to return while you do that," he told her, not adding that he needed to find a bite to eat too. He was curious to stay and eavesdrop on what she'd say to her mum about him, but he hadn't eaten at all the previous day and he needed the fortification. This would be his best chance to take care of feeding without her realizing what he was doing. Controlling his baser urges in order to be a man and not a monster around Buffy took a lot out of him.

He slipped quietly down the streets in the early morning light, looking for a likely meal. A bum would do the trick, even if they tasted sour. He wasn't up for a seduction this morning, not with the way his cock ached for the girl he'd just left. He felt foolish for thinking it, but it seemed disloyal to touch another bird that way when the only one he wanted was Buffy.

Buffy. She'd been a vision last night, and a right trooper sticking the evening out even though she'd clearly been uncomfortable at first. Spike wasn't sure why he'd reverted to William as soon as he'd put on the tux. He'd been a much more suave and self-assured William that he'd ever been in real life, at least. If he'd burst out with god-awful poetry he might have staked himself in mortification.

The Slayer had seemed to appreciate him anyhow, based on the way her eyes had roamed over him and the enticing scent she'd been emitting. She hadn't seemed put out by his alter-ego's demeanor either. It had given him a secret thrill to behave as the gentleman he'd once been and yet find himself with a beautiful woman on his arm rather than the laughing stock of society he'd typically been treated as. _Take that, you wankers,_ he told his long-dead tormentors. _William's a bit more of a man these days._

One bum and one bag lady later, he returned to the hotel bearing a bag of pastries and a fresh-squeezed juice. He'd originally been carrying more, but he'd given some of the pastries to each of his meals in reparation for their blood loss. He imagined it would make Buffy proud of him.

She was just finishing up as he entered. "Yeah, he's back now. 'Kay mom. Love you. Bye".

"Have a good talk?"

She gave him a brilliant smile, pushing her bed-mussed hair out of her face, and his undead heart lurched. "Yup. She told me to thank you for letting me call her and for taking care of me. Thank you," she said, obviously meaning it. His heart lurched again.

Neither of them mentioned the awkward topic of her supposed captivity and imminent death. Spike wanted to tell her that he planned on putting her on a plane home once they reached New York, but he didn't want to disturb the fantasy they'd created. Better to let things continue as they were.

"Got a big day ahead," he said instead. "Ought to get moving if you want maximum roller coaster time".

"Yay! I'm really looking forward to this!" she exclaimed. She bounced into the bathroom and was out again in minutes, freshly showered and dressed.

He sat at the little hotel room table, waiting for her. "Buffy," he said awkwardly, holding the syringe full of drugs in his hand.

She sighed. "Look, do you really need to do that anymore? I could have killed you a hundred times by now and I haven't. Don't you trust me?"

He hesitated. He trusted her, but he was terrified that when she got her powers back, things would be different. Her perspective might change, and she might feel differently, act differently. Remember what he was and want to kill him. Or worse, leave him.

When he just waited, frozen with indecision, she sighed again and flopped down in the chair in front of him, holding her arm out. "I really hope these drugs don't have any bad long term effects. I don't think they're meant to be used day after day. If I'm permanently damaged I'm blaming you".

"You'll be fine," he said roughly, feeling guilty as he injected her, and even angrier that he felt guilty in the first place. A vampire of his stature had no place feeling guilty.

Frustrated with himself for ruining the companionable time they'd been sharing, Spike silently handed her the breakfast he'd brought her and turned away.

Buffy didn't say another word until they'd left Chicago far behind. She sat in the front seat next to him, legs curled under her, turning the playbill she'd saved from last night's performance over and over in her hands.

"You're not who you pretend to be," she announced, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Come again?"

"You act like you were some tough guy or a thug or something, but you weren't. When you were human. Were you?"

He didn't know what to say. He'd cultivated his Spike persona carefully, trying to obliterate any traces of the simpering nancy boy he'd been. He supposed he'd let the cat out of the bag last night.

"Reckon I wasn't," was all he answered.

Buffy plucked at the sleeve of his leather jacket. "So why the act? Who were you before?"

"S'not an act, luv. S'who I am now. I was nobody before, a complete and utter tosser. William died, 'n I was reborn, free of the strictures of the society I was born into, free to be who I wanted. Someone worth reckoning with". Free to lay waste to the society prats who had tormented him all his adult life.

His face reflected the grim satisfaction he'd found in letting the gits get their wish of having a sodding railroad spike driven into their head. He'd kept them alive long enough to recite pages and pages of his poetry to them first, listening to the blubbering men profess his verses the best they'd ever heard in a desperate attempt to pacify him and keep him from taking his gory revenge. They'd died anyway, but not until after watching him slaughter their wives and children.

Yeah. He was Spike now, and it felt good. No remorse whatsoever. 'Course, telling the Slayer that kind of thing was likely to get him staked, no matter how much she'd warmed to him. He wasn't a complete idiot.

"He seemed alright to me," Buffy interrupted his thoughts.

"Who?"

"William".

"That wasn't William, luv. William was an utter ponce and would have sent you running in boredom".

He could see Buffy studying him out of the corner of his eye, her head cocked. "I don't know". The back of her hand brushed his cheek. "I think he had to have been decent and kind and generous, and I think he had to have been pretty strong in his own way, to still be there inside of you after so long as a demon".

Spike abruptly slowed down and pulled over onto the shoulder, turning the car off. "Buffy," he said, and his voice cracked. He rested his head on the steering wheel. "The things you do to me. I don't understand what's happening. You make me feel things I haven't felt in over a century. When I'm with you, I swear I want to be a man and not a monster". The confession poured out of him unbidden, leaving him shaken.

"I don't understand either," she replied, and her voice was frightened. "I shouldn't like you. I shouldn't _trust_ you. You've kidnapped me and violated me in more ways than one, and now we're pretending to be friends and acting like none of that ever happened".

"Are we just pretending? To be friends?" Spike twisted his head and watched her closely, his eyes stormy with emotion.

"I don't know," she whispered. "This can't be real. You're a vampire. I'm the Slayer". Her lower lip trembled and tears began to fall. Spike tentatively reached over to brush them away. "Out here, we can ignore all that. We're just a guy and a girl on vacation. But back home… it could never be".

"We don't have to go back. We can just keep going," he burst out vehemently. "I'll take care of you".

"Would that be before or after you kill me?" she sniffled.

"Pet… you know I've changed. I couldn't kill you anymore".

She turned her round, tear-filled eyes on him. "No?"

"Never. Never hurt you again". He leaned towards her and kissed the tears from her eyes.

"But you're evil," she protested.

"Not evil. Demon, true, but not evil. Not if I don't want to be. Can't promise you I'll be good, but… I won't kill. 'Less they really deserve it," he added. "What do you say? Shall we run off together, leave it all behind?" He pulled back, his eyes boring into hers.

Buffy leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh and he slipped his arm around her, pulling her closer. "You make it sound so easy". Spike closed his eyes and breathed her in while spoke into his chest. "I can't leave it behind. It's my life. It's who I am. Sometimes I hate it, but… I don't. Not really". Her fingers traced small circles on his jean-clad knee, and his skin burned with her touch right through the denim.

She took a deep breath and continued. "This has been… strange… and confusing… and first terrifying and now wonderful. But it'll have to end and things will have to go back to the way they were. Or, hopefully not the way they were, but… there's not a future for us, Spike. Not as friends. Not as…" she trailed off and raised her head off his chest. She twisted slightly, and her hand left his knee to reach up to brush his cheek. "Not as anything". It dropped back into her lap like a rock and he lamented the loss of her touch.

They were both silent. Spike wanted to argue and protest and cajole, but he didn't. As long as she were with him, he would show her how good things could be and hope she wanted it enough to take that chance later.

"Can… can we go back to pretending now?" she said after awhile.

He put the car in drive and pulled back out into traffic, Buffy still nestled against him. She was warm and soft and he didn't think he'd ever let her go. "I won't give up," he told her, his voice low and raw.

"I wouldn't expect you to," she answered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Notes:**

Joss Whedon owns these characters, and it rips my heart out, what he does to them. So I'm thankful he lets the rest of us play and write happier endings. (And if you too follow the comics and need something pro-Spuffy to read to make it better, check out my other story if you haven't already!)

* * *

Staring up at the monstrous roller coaster in wide-eyed wonder, Buffy asked, "Ready?"

"Lead, the way, luv. You gonna scream like a little girl?"

"Oh, I think you'll be the one screaming, Spikey".

"Of course. More fun that way, innit?"

As the cart rattled and clacked up the enormous starting hill, Spike leaned over the side, then pulled his head back in. "Feels like I have a bloody death wish, being on top of this much wood".

"Of course that would bother you more than the – oh my god we're going to die!" she squealed as they crested the rise, her view of the first drop completely unbroken thanks to their position in the very front.

"No turning back now! Hands up," he told her, grabbing the one he could reach and raising it high in the air. It was hard to say who screamed louder as the wind rushed past them and tried to steal their breath away. The sound of the Big Bad screaming tickled her funny bone, and Buffy laughed more than she screamed.

When they queued to see the photos, Buffy begged him to buy the one with them in it, Spike's countenance frozen in equal parts laughter and fear, looking for all the world like just another regular guy spending the day at the amusement park with his best girl. "Please. I need to remember that face for the rest of my life. Every time you try to tell me how big and bad and dangerous you are, I'm going go and look at this picture and laugh myself silly".

Spike grumbled good-naturedly, but a moment later he handed her the photo, complete with cardboard picture frame bearing the Cedar Point logo and the words 'I survived the Mean Streak' emblazoned on it.

Several hours later they sat together on a bench watching people playing midway games to win stuffed animals, sharing a bag of cotton candy. Buffy had a collection of a dozen different ride photos in a small bag on her lap, and she swung her legs in contentment. "Betcha can't win me that giant bear," she said, pointing a sticky finger at an enormous stuffed blue bear hanging from one of the stalls.

"You wound me," he placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "I'll have you know I'm an expert at -" he squinted at the stall where the bear hung "- the ring toss. Although why you want that hideous thing is beyond me".

She turned her full Prom Queen charm on him, all batting eyelashes and worshipful gaze. "Oh, that's not fair," he told her. Her lower lip began to jut out. "Fine! I'm going!"

Five minutes later he handed her the stuffed toy. She could barely get her arm around it. Setting it on the nearby bench, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you!" She glanced back at the ring toss attendant who was still staring dumbstruck at Spike. "I think the poor boy working the booth is going to remember you for the rest of his life. He couldn't believe you made twenty in a row like that without even taking a breath. Of course he didn't know you don't breathe".

"Man on a mission," he smirked. "Had to make my girl happy".

Buffy blinked at his words. "I'm not your girl," she said automatically. His smile fell away as she said it. Her fault he'd said it. She'd been the one flirting and kissing him. "I'm sorry. Let's just not go there, okay? Stick with the status quo?"

She picked the bear up and hugged it tight when he didn't answer her. "I've always wanted somebody to me win one of these. He's going to take up your whole back seat," she said in attempt to regain their levity.

Spike gave her a crooked smile. "Come on. We haven't ridden the carrousel yet. I want on the giraffe."

Buffy sighed, relieved he was playing along. She didn't blame him for calling her his girl, after all, they were acting like a couple, holding hands, laughing, feeding each other bites of their food. She'd been sleeping in his arms for the past three nights. From the looks he'd give her when he thought she wouldn't notice, he wanted to kiss her as much as she thought about it. She knew he was aroused when he held her at night, although he tried to hide it. But what she'd said earlier in the car still stood. They couldn't be anything when this was over, and if she let herself think of him as anything more than just a friend – an annoying, sexy, sweet friend – she didn't know how she'd go back to her real life.

If only they were two regular people, she would date him, there was no question. He – the he that Spike had been these last few days - was interesting, funny, thoughtful, strong, charming, exciting and sexy, with an undercurrent of dangerousness that added to his appeal. She wasn't a regular person though, and he wasn't even a man. She was the Slayer and he was William the Bloody, the vampire that had tried to kill her, terrorized her friends, kidnapped her, drugged her, and violated her. The vampire that was still feeding on people, even if he wasn't killing anymore. She hoped he wasn't lying about that. If he was, it was as good as if she'd killed them herself, because she'd done nothing to stop him.

And who knew how long this version of Spike would last? Maybe he'd get bored, miss the carnage and the bloodshed, and return to trying to kill her. It was a possibility she couldn't let herself forget.

After the carrousel, both of their moods were still subdued. "What do you want to do now?" she asked him.

"It's your vacation, Slayer," he said, his tone polite but nothing more. She winced at his use of her title.

"Not the Slayer now," she snapped, suddenly on edge. "You saw to that with that injection this morning, remember?"

"Right. Not the Slayer, not my girl. What else shouldn't I call you, luv?"

"Not that! Not pet or luv or sweetheart! Just… I don't know, why don't you just call me prisoner. Kidnappee. That's what I am, in case you've forgotten!"

He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to retort, but she burst into tears, clutching the bear to her and burying her face in it.

"Buffy?" His voice was uncertain. "What… Bloody hell. I'm sorry. Whatever I've done, I'm sorry".

"Don't do that," she mumbled into the bear. "You're not sorry. You can't be. You don't feel guilt".

"I do. I bloody well do. In this last week I've come to feel guilt and shame and a hundred other things I never thought I'd feel again".

She lifted her face and looked at him, bewildered, the crowds eddying around them in the overly-bright amusement park lights. They stared at each other, only inches apart, a huge chasm separating them. Buffy teetered on the edge of the cliff, wanting to leap off and meet him in the unknown, but she was terrified of what she'd find there. She stepped back from the metaphorical brink and took a literal step away from him too.

"I think I'm done for the day. Too much excitement. Are you ready to go?"

"We can if you want. Did you want to skip the Ferris wheel, then? Remember you said you wanted to ride it after dark".

Buffy saw him try to hide the hopeful look in his eyes. She had really wanted to do that. He'd willingly gone on every ride she'd wanted, and even though she was still afraid of the thing, it gave her a pleasant little zing of anticipation to know that it was something that he would enjoy. "How could we miss that? It's supposed to be one of the tallest in the country. I'll be extra high up and exposed".

"Well if you fall out, you have Ugly there to cushion your landing," he said with a look at the bear.

"Hey, don't hurt his feelings, or he'll come to life and gobble you up in your sleep".

"Oi! Don't say that! We're close enough to a Hellmouth that you shouldn't joke about things like that!"

"Ooooh, don't tell me William the Bloody is afraid of a little old bear," she teased as she began walking towards the Ferris wheel.

"S'not so little, and I tell you, the thing is evil. Evil enough to make _me_ quake in my boots," he joked back.

Affable mood once more in place, they waited in line. This time, when they paused at the top of the wheel, Buffy held tightly to Spike's arm and twisted around to take in the 360 view. The lights of the park sparkled on the surface of Lake Erie. "Thanks for reminding me about the Ferris wheel. It would have been a shame to miss this".

"Indeed," he replied, but he was looking at her as he said it, and she blushed. When the wheel began to rotate again, she wanted to lean against him, but didn't think she should after her earlier outburst. No need to send mixed signals.

"Anything else before we go?" he asked her after they disembarked.

"Nah. It's almost nine. Park's closing soon anyhow".

"Want to eat before we leave town?"

She considered. "I think I'm still full from all the delicious and oh-so-nutritious crap we've eaten today".

He chuckled. "Cleveland's 'bout an hour away. We can get petrol and some nosh there".

"Petrol. Nosh. I think you make these words up".

"Whereas you have such a fine grasp of the Queen's English". He'd slipped into his university accent.

"Now you sound like Giles. That's worse".

Spike made a face. "You're right. Wouldn't want anybody to think I was that pillock".

"You know, he'd say the same about you". He snorted. "I'm serious. He'd use the same words and the same tone of voice. I think you must be a younger Giles". She stopped, realizing the absurdity of that when he snorted again. "Or an older one, I guess. You know what, I'm done talking now". She marched ahead to the parking lot without another word.

In the car, giant bear stuffed into the back seat like a mutant child, Buffy leaned back into her seat gratefully. Yawning, she said, "Wake me when we stop. I'm officially funned-out girl".

"And you mock my speech". Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and then curled up against the door. Spike wriggled out of his duster and covered her with it before he drove off.

She came to when he shook her shoulder. "I'm up, I'm up," she grumbled. "Where are we?"

"Fancy some Thai food?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "You like Thai food?"

"They know how to make it good and spicy". He parked the car and went around and opened her door, assisting her out.

She shook her head. "That still freaks me out".

"You know my dirty li'l secret. I'm a gentleman through and through".

After dinner, during which Buffy had taken one bite of Spike's meal and almost began shooting flames out of her mouth, she began yawning repeatedly. "E-e-excuse me!" she yawned as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant while Spike lit a cigarette. "How far away is it to the car?"

"Stay here. I'll fetch the car, bring it round".

"Th-thanks!" she yawned again when Spike swaggered off in a cloud of smoke.

As Buffy was waiting, she heard a noise in the alley next to the restaurant. Peeking in, she saw a dark form gliding further in, and the hairs on her neck stood up. It wasn't her usual vampire alert system, since that was non-operational at the moment, but a natural reaction to sensing a predator nearby.

Instantly awake, she crouched down and pulled a piece of wood off a pallet laying nearby, muttering in disgust when it gave her a splinter. Lack of strength had meant it wasn't a clean break. She debated whether or not she should pursue the vampire, but before she could, something had her by the arm. She looked up into yellowed eyes and grinning fangs.

"Oh for the love of -". She swung the makeshift stake, but the vampire easily caught her arm and knocked it away. "Hey!" she said indignantly. "I was using that!" Her reflexes were slow, but they were still there, trained into her, along with the moves she needed. She dropped down, wrenching out of the creature's grasp, and swept her leg in an arc, sending him to the ground. Before he could get up, she'd grabbed the fallen piece of wood and plunged it into his heart, panting heavily at the exertion. "Who needs super-strength? I'm still the Slayer, and you're still dust".

Growls reverberated around her. "Funny, you don't look like a Slayer". Three more vampires had surrounded her, all recently turned by the looks of it.

"I'm having a bit of an off-day, I'll admit it, but my worst day is still good enough to take you losers on". She calculated her chances. They didn't look too good, despite her brave words. One-on-one she could probably take them, but if they decided to rush her all at once…

Of course they did. She fought as best as she could, but it was no use. They soon had her pinned to the ground. "You know, I have this vampire friend, he's way cooler than you guys". Maybe she could talk them into letting her go. Stranger things had happened. Like Spike deciding to befriend his mortal enemy. "He's already decided he'd rather keep me alive, so how about you let me go? He's going to be mighty pissed off when he sees what you've done to me".

"What kind of lame vampire wants to keep a human alive?" one of them scoffed.

"Me". All four sets of eyes turned towards the sound. Spike slouched insouciantly against the wall, smoking a cigarette and watching them as if he hadn't a care in the world.

* * *

When Spike had pulled up and not seen Buffy, he'd full-out panicked. _She's left me_, he'd thought, an empty, clawing sensation ripping through his chest. Without even bothering to pull into a parking spot, he'd leapt out of the still running DeSoto and rushed to the sidewalk, standing where he'd left her and breathing wildly.

_You can find her. Just think, mate._ He stopped his pointless breathing and inhaled deeply, then turned, following the scent into the nearby alley. Her voice reached his ears, and he almost panicked again at her words.

"He's going to be mighty pissed off when he sees what you've done to me". What who had done to her? The panic receded when he saw the fledglings that had her pinned, and anger took its place. Those wankers shouldn't have been able to touch her. His fault. He lit a fag as one of them spoke.

"What kind of lame vampire wants to keep a human alive?" His fangs slipped out and his posture loosened as a cold hard fury burned in him.

"Me". He took a deep drag and flicked the smoke away, gliding toward them with predatory grace.

"Are you serious, dude? Who the hell are you? Billy Idol's loser cousin?"

"I'm nobody you want to brass off, mate". In one fluid motion, Spike scooped up Buffy's lost bit of pallet and staked one vampire, then twisted and dusted the other before any them had even realized what was going on.

The third scrambled backwards. "Dude, you some kind of traitor? I'll share her with you. Not a problem, man".

Spike had reached the last vampire, and he twisted its head off with an audible pop. Dust floated down around him. "I don't share".

He heard Buffy behind him. "Okay, that's just not fair that you get all the fun. I hate being weak and helpless," she stamped her foot in frustration.

Spike turned to her, taking in her disheveled appearance, and suddenly sagged, realizing he'd almost lost her again because he had chosen to keep her helpless. With a feral growl he scooped her up, still in game face, and threw her over his shoulder, striding quickly back to his idling car.

"Hey! What's with the caveman routine?" she protested, pounding his back ineffectually. He plopped her down and opened the trunk, flinging things around. He finally found what he was looking for, and pulled out the small bag containing the Cruiciamentum drugs. He emptied it out, bottle and syringes dropping to the black asphalt, then snarled and crushed the offending items beneath the heel of his boot, not stopping even when there was nothing left but ground glass and bits of plastic and a wet smear.

Buffy grabbed his arm. "Spike. Stop. It's over".

He stilled, then flinched away from her touch, face sliding back to human. "My fault. My fault," he muttered. "Promised I wouldn't hurt you, but I let them do it. Same as if I'd done it. My fault".

Buffy gestured at the people who had stopped on the sidewalk to stare at them and the cars that were edging around the DeSoto where it blocked the lane. "Not the place for a breakdown, okay? Can we at least get the car parked?"

"My fault," he repeated stubbornly, but he let her take him by the arm, and slid into the car after her when she pulled him in through the driver's door.

"Now, unless you want to see me try to drive, which I assure you will be the scariest thing that will have happened to either of us today, I suggest you do it".

A minute later they were parked in a mostly empty lot down the road. Spike was still cursing himself under his breath. "Just a stupid, worthless monster. Never be a man".

Buffy kept her hand on his arm, but he refused to look at her. "Look, I can't pretend it wasn't your fault. I mean, you drugged me. I wouldn't have had any problem dusting them otherwise. But you fixed it. You saved me, and you destroyed the drugs. That's what people do. They make mistakes, and they fix them. All's well that ends well, lesson learned, as my mom would say".

"Smart lady, Joyce". Hope bloomed in him.

"She is. She's very smart and don't you forget it. She's got a smart daughter too".

"Really? Have I met her?" He felt his lips twitch and he stilled them. Too much to hope his smart mouth wouldn't get him in trouble.

"Careful, or I'll think you aren't properly sorry". Spike dared to look at Buffy. She was smiling.

"We're fine then?" he wondered. "Just like that?"

She was serious again. "I wouldn't say we're fine. I don't think you and I will ever be fine, Spike. But we're forgiving and forgetting as long as you understand that that you were wrong and you're sorry".

"Remorseful".

"Huh?"

"I'm not just sorry, pet. I'm abjectly remorseful, and even if you forgive me, I'll never forgive myself. Or forget it". He meant it, too. He didn't think he could ever forget the pain he was feeling just now.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Are you sure you're a vampire?" He flashed her his fangs in answer. "You're just a freak, then. An aberration".

"I prefer to think of myself as unique," he said solemnly, but then smiled shyly at Buffy's laughter. The guilt was still there, still twisting inside of him, but it was tolerable now. He put the car in drive.

"I thought you'd left. At first. When I couldn't find you. I thought maybe you'd come to your senses and taken off".

"Nuh-uh. You're stuck with me, buster. You promised me more fun and I intend to hold you to it".

The empty hole inside him filled back up. She hadn't left him. She didn't hate him. He still had a chance.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes:**

I just wanted to warn y'all... As much as I like to read stories where Spike gives up evil just like that... this is not one of them. Spike might seem like he's turning into this really nice guy, but he was one of the worst vamps in history for 120 years. It's downplayed on the show, because of course they wanted us to have sympathy for him, and it's hard to have sympathy for a character when they keep reminding us of how evil he was. If you read the shooting scripts, they left a lot of those reminders out of the actual final version of each episode.

One week of loving Buffy isn't going to change him that quickly. I'm nearing the end, currently at Ch 52, and I promise you, I don't have 40 chapters of fluff in the works.

Just, you know, so you don't all want to kill me when things turns dark again (but not this chapter, I swear). I know some people have a bit of a, ahem, blind spot towards Spike's nature. If you're one of them, this may not be the story for you (just like I can't read stories where Spike is this really nice guy with a bloodlust problem and Buffy is so _mean_ for treating him like a evil vampire - they make my head boil. Sorry. I just got 25 chapters into a 50 chapter story like that and it makes me ornery). It's that contradiction in his character that makes me fascinated with him.

Meanwhile, have a bit more fluffy Spike. Loving the reviews. Thanks!

* * *

"Where are we spending the night?"

"Figured we'd push through to Niagara, pet, spend the night there. There's sure to be lots of nice places to choose from". Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably. "Spit it out, luv".

"Ah, I was hoping we could stop someplace sooner. I'm really tired. Want to get to bed". She gave a half-faked yawn.

"We can stop sooner if you want. What's the real reason?"

She really didn't want to tell him, but Spike always seemed to catch her in a lie. How was he so perceptive? "There's this whole vibe to hotels in Niagara. You know. For honeymooners. Couples. I think it would be… awkward".

"Because we're not," he said flatly. "A couple".

"Right".

"And it would be too much to push our pretend friendship that far".

"Exactly!" she said, relieved that he understood.

"No worries, luv. I'm 'bout ready to give out too. We'll stop soon".

How could this be the same creature that had kidnapped her from Sunnydale? Nobody would believe her if she told them what he was like. Except maybe her mom, but that was just Mom. She was a nice person. She believed the best of everybody.

They found a place in Erie, Pennsylvania. After Buffy had brushed her teeth, Spike asked, "Is it still okay if I hold you tonight?" She understood now why he'd gotten a room with two beds. He was afraid she'd say no.

She wasn't angry with him, even though he thought she was. Heaven knew she should be, but it would be pretty silly. She'd already forgiven him for far worse. Forgiven was a bit strong. Decided to ignore was more like what she was doing. Either way, she was still here, wasn't she? She may as well sleep in his arms; she'd never slept so well as she had these last few days. It was one of the many things she'd miss when she got back to her real life.

_Real life. Why's that one more real?_ she mused as she settled into his embrace. Philosophical questions aside, she wondered when her return to real life would be. There was an unspoken understanding between them that she would eventually go back to Sunnydale, that Spike would either let her go or take her home himself, but he'd never actually said when. Or even that he would.

The plans they'd made lasted until NYC. Buffy decided she'd worry about it then.

* * *

"'M not getting on that thing," Spike said emphatically.

"Oh come on," Buffy cajoled him. "It's all part of the experience. We can't really say we've been here if we don't do it".

"No. It'll muss my hair and ruin my jacket. They make you dress like a bloody Smurf. It's undignified is what it is and I won't do it".

"Baby. Leave your jacket behind. You don't have to put on the poncho if you don't want to".

"No way, Summers. What part of 'no' don't you understand?"

She pulled out her secret weapon. "I like it when your hair gets mussed. It's sexy when it's all curly and dripping wet". His eyes darkened and she could tell he was on the verge of agreeing. She sweetened the deal. "I'll be dripping wet too," she purred.

Eyes widening comically, he gulped. "And you call me evil".

"What can I say? You're a bad influence".

Suddenly he was pressed up against her, sucking his teeth in that sexy way, hand sliding up her leg. He leaned down and nipped her earlobe, rumbling, "I'm very bad… as bad as you want me to be".

"Gah!" She scuttled backwards on jelly legs. "Too much! Too much sex… sexy! Stay back!" she stuttered. He gave her a naughty smile and _dripping wet_ was a fait accompli.

They weren't even on the boat yet.

"Fine," he said, as though he hadn't noticed the puddle of lust formerly known as Buffy Summers in front of him. "I'll go on your bloody boat ride. But no Blue Man Group and no -" he glared at the disposable waterproof camera she was fondling, "- bleeding photos". Her lower lip came out.

Half an hour later they were standing on the deck of 'The Maid of the Mist', Buffy cheerfully asking a fellow tourist to take a picture of the two of them in their blue ponchos.

"If you ever show those to anybody I'll rip your bloody throat out and feed your pieces to a Mor'talnak demon myself". She snapped a picture of him mid-grumble, unrepentant.

"Isn't this fun?" she blithely ignored his threats, opening her mouth to taste the spray from the falls. Water streamed down both of them in rivulets. "Just think, you're probably the only vampire who's ever done this. You're so lucky you found that ring".

He lifted his hand and gave the ring in question a black look. "Wasn't what I had in mind for it."

Grabbing his hand, she twined her fingers with his. "Yeah, but this is waaayyyy more fun. And original. I mean, any vampire can come up with a plan to use the ring to kill _more_ people. You're being much more creative".

"Most vampires wouldn't care to do the things we've been up to, pet".

"I know. That's why I like you. You're interesting". She gave his fingers a squeeze and let go. "More interesting than most human guys too".

Spike took the camera from her and took her picture as she opened her arms wide and let the spray drench her.

The boat turned around and began its return journey. A breeze blew up. Buffy shivered violently and gave Spike a contrite look. "Brrrr. Maybe you were right. This isn't as much fun once you're soaked through".

He took another picture of her. "This one's mine to keep. So I'll always remember how you look dripping wet". He bit his lip and waggled his eyebrows. She involuntarily thought of the other dripping wet moment and blushed furiously. Spike gave her a knowing smirk.

"Pig".

"Don't play with fire, little girl, you'll only get burned. Besides, you started it," he added superciliously.

When she just shivered again, he wrapped his arms around her. "Silly chit. You're sorry now, aren't you?" His lips brushed her forehead and she gasped.

"Cold! Vampire lips! Like ice!"

He snuck his hands up under her poncho and sweater. This time she screamed. Almost everyone on the boat turned and stared at her.

"He's got cold hands," she said sheepishly.

Afterwards, they ate lunch at a restaurant overlooking the falls, drying out in the weak autumn sun. Buffy couldn't take her eyes off the pounding water. "There're so many beautiful things to see in the world". She turned to him. "Thanks. It's nice to see what I'm fighting for. Gives me another reason to stop all those apocalypses".

"If we get moving, you'll get to see another one today".

"Really? What?"

"The autumn colors. You Californians have never seen a proper fall".

* * *

Buffy had read about the leaves turning and even seen pictures, but Spike was right, seeing it was something else entirely. The hills were resplendent in fiery tones of red and orange and yellow. Just when she'd think she'd seen enough, they'd turn a corner and her breath would be taken away all over again.

When the sun had set and there was no more to see, she stretched dreamily. "So much beauty," she murmured. "Why do demons always want to destroy it?" she asked Spike.

"S'all in how you see it. Demons don't see it that way. We see the beauty in destruction, in the violence and the burning. There's a dark glory there".

"That's just… I don't know".

"You telling me you don't ever feel it? The joy of destruction? The exquisite power of tearing something down, just because you can? The dark beauty of flames consuming everything in their path?"

Buffy shivered. She did feel it. She supposed everyone felt it to some point, otherwise how to explain a kid stomping on a sandcastle at the beach? "But we – humans – don't just destroy. We build too. Demons don't. Most," she amended.

"And there's the balance. We destroy, you rebuild, bigger and better than before. It works out nicely".

"Until you get a demon who wants to destroy it all. Send everything to hell".

"Yeah, I don't get that myself. But you know that. You destroy the whole world, what's left? Nothing to do, nothing to eat".

"No more happy meals on legs," Buffy interjected.

"You remember!" He was pleased. "Problem is, most of your demons aren't that bright. They don't think that far ahead".

"But vampires, they don't usually want to destroy the whole world, right?"

He gave her a sharp look, understanding her immediately. "Angelus had gone round the bend, luv. Think having a soul made him lose his marbles to start with, and then throw loving you into the mix…"

"So it's my fault? Loving me was so awful it made him want to destroy the whole world?"

"Told you, he was off his rocker. Angelus is unadulterated evil. Having been so close to someone like you, so pure, so full of light, he couldn't handle it". She frowned, and he continued. "'Sides, he's not one of your smarter ones, is he? Didn't think the whole world ending plan through, did he? Wanker".

"Because your plan to unleash the Judge was so much less apocalypty".

He started patting his pockets and pulled out his crumpled pack of smokes. "Yeah, well, I'm a fool for love. Do anything to keep my girl happy. What Dru wanted, she got". He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag. "S'not like it didn't turn out alright. Knew some do-gooder would put a stop to him eventually, before he killed all my happy meals. You white hat types are resourceful like that".

"Gee, thanks".

When he'd stubbed out his cigarette, she asked, "So do vampires see beauty outside of destruction?"

"Some do. Most don't".

"And you?"

"What do you think, pet?"

"I think you must".

"I don't go all gaga over it like some poncy human, writing poetry and what not, but I do appreciate beautiful things. Just as much as I enjoy carnage and devastation". He shrugged. "There are some things it'd be a shame to destroy".

"Like what? What's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

He didn't hesitate. "You".

She gave him a frightened look, like a trapped animal. "Don't say things like that".

"Can't help it, it's true. You're beautiful. When you wake up in my arms, sleepy and languorous, you take my breath away".

"I'm not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen," she protested, and gave a depreciating laugh to cover up her discomfort.

"That face you're making, right now? Where you can't decide if I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you or the worst? Stunning".

"So glad to know my confusion is attractive to you. You should come to math class with me, I'll really knock your socks off. Come on, be serious. You've seen, like, everything. I'm not even the most good-looking girl, never mind the most beautiful object in the whole world".

"I am serious. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I declare that to me, you are".

"So says the demon who thinks a burning town is beautiful".

His attention flicked back and forth between her and the road. "Well, then. There you have it. You're a force of nature; you lay waste to the evil of the world. It's amazing. When you fight? You're the most perfect creature that ever existed. With your dazzling smile and your shining hair bouncing all around; the life and vitality that you exude in contrast to the devastation that pours forth from your formidable little hands; the way you move, like poetry in motion, dealing out death…" his voice grew lower and lower. "The way you smell. The way you taste…" he trailed off. "If I could only have one memory for the rest of eternity, it would be of you in a fight". He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, eyes firmly fixed on the road.

Buffy trembled. How could he say these things to her? He thought she was beautiful because she was deadly? It was a sentiment that would creep most girls out, but then, she wasn't most girls. She wasn't sure how it made her feel.

Her hand tingled where he touched it. "I…" She swallowed and tried again. "I can't. It's all too much".

Too much what, she couldn't say, but Spike seemed to understand. He gently placed her hand back on her lap.

"Now's the time when you tell me the most beautiful thing _you've _ever seen. And I'll understand if you're too shy to admit it's me," he told her cheekily.

She laughed, appreciating his levity. He always seemed to know when to back off. "I've seen you checking yourself out in the photos. I'm not adding to your ego".

She gave her answer some thought. "When I was sixteen, I killed the Master. But he killed me first, you know? Just for a minute," she assured him. "Xander did CPR and brought me back to life. I got up and found the Master and I staked him. The next day, when the sun rose, and everybody went about their business, I saw that, and I knew it was because of me. All the kids screaming at the park were safe because of what I'd done, all the couples holding hands and not even knowing the fate they'd barely missed. And I remember feeling such joy, and thinking everything was so beautiful, and that I was so lucky to still be there to see it".

Spike shook his head. "And you don't understand why I think _you're_ beautiful".

"Thank you," she said quietly, accepting it for the compliment he meant it to be. Here was somebody who understood just what it meant to be the Slayer, and appreciated her for it. She wasn't going to think about his words beyond that. They were going into the things to ignore box, which was going to be filled to bursting by the time she got home.

After awhile she tried again. "What – what else do you find beautiful? About the world. I keep thinking you've lived so long and seen so much, and I want to know what's really stuck out in your mind". When he didn't answer right away, she added. "Why you would want to save it. Besides soccer and dog racing, because those are lame and don't count".

Spike snorted. "Bite your tongue. There are billions of humans out there that would agree with me that football makes the world worth saving".

He didn't continue, and he was quiet so long Buffy thought he wasn't going to answer. She tried to think of something else to ask him, but then he began to recite in a melodious voice,

"Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock,  
The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, the cool silver shock  
Of the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear,  
And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair.  
And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust divine,  
And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full draught of wine,  
And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell  
That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well.  
How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ  
All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy!"

When he finished, he gave her an embarrassed look, and she could have sworn he was blushing. She stared at him, mouth working in surprise. William the Bloody memorized poetry? She was about to laugh in disbelief, but she saw the terrified, almost sick expression on his face. She couldn't mock him.

"Wow," she exclaimed. "That was incredible. Did you… who wrote that?"

Spike drummed his hands nervously on the wheel. "Not me. I could never write like that, much as I wanted to". He shot her a panicked look, realizing what he'd just let on. "Not that I ever tried," he backtracked.

"Really? I think it'd be cool. I'm no good at stuff like that. I'm just bash-em smash-em girl. I could never memorize a poem. Maybe a short one, like four lines. Nothing like you".

"There's tricks to it". Spike seemed to relax when she didn't tease him. "It was something we had to do a lot of in school".

"Could you teach me?"

He looked at her questioningly. "You're not having me on?"

"No. I think it'd be cool".

Spike warmed to the subject. "The easiest is to pick something you like, of course. Something that speaks to you. And then you need to learn the rhythm".

"I liked that one. Who wrote it?"

"That was an English bloke by the name of Robert Browning".

"And what's your favorite?"

"Too many. Depends on the moment". He took a breath and blew it out. "How 'bout this:

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every golden tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

"That's Lord Byron," he told her after a moment.

His voice, which had changed while he was recited, didn't revert back, and Buffy was reminded once again that William had been a gentleman before he was turned.

She couldn't quite comprehend that she was listening to William the Bloody recite poetry. Not only that, but his favorite piece was a love poem. It was beyond surreal, but you couldn't make this kind of thing up. He continued on, enthused now, and she realized that she'd opened something up in him, something he'd kept hidden from the rest of the world for over a century.

Spike had shown himself to be a romantic, which, like so much else about him was an absurd concept for a vampire, and now she knew he was a poet at heart as well. Had he been tender and sweet when he'd been turned? Had Drusilla mocked his romantic inclinations and love of poetry?

She couldn't reconcile all the different facets Spike had shown her of himself. He was a big, giant conundrum that didn't fit together. There was no way he was the same vampire she'd first met. She began to wonder if there were two of them. An evil Spike and a good Spike. One person couldn't be so many things at once. Or maybe he had multiple personality disorder. That might explain it.

She realized he had finished declaiming the last poem and was waiting for her reaction.

"Can you write some of those down for me later? Or at least the names and the authors? I want to remember".

He looked like he'd just unwrapped a present he'd always wanted. Who knew he was so hungry for acceptance? It made her heart ache for him.

Buffy knew he was trusting her with a monumental secret, one he might kill to protect. She wished she didn't suck so much at words. She wanted to tell him that she was flattered, and that she wouldn't make him regret sharing his deepest, most secret self with her, but she couldn't figure out how. Instead she settled on showing him. She scooted over on the bench seat until she was snuggled up next to him. He put his arm around her and they drove on in comfortable silence, her hand resting on his chest where his heart ought to have been beating.

* * *

**A/N** Yes, Spike did change Lord Byron's poem from raven tresses to golden ones on purpose. He's a sap. If you caught that. I never would have, because poetry is so not my thing...


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes:**

I probably should take this time to state that Spike and Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and his associates, which is too bad, because out there in the real world he's ripping them apart again. Sigh...

* * *

They finally reached New York City. The final leg of their vacation. Buffy was fast asleep in the crook of his arm, and Spike didn't know how he was ever going to let her go. He still thought they ought to just keep going, run away together. He couldn't see anything wrong with it. Buffy, however, had made it clear she expected to go home. She wouldn't stay with him voluntarily much longer. He considered kidnapping her. Re-kidnapping her. It was a foolish idea, the kind he once would have indulged in, but all he'd get for his troubles was one brassed-off Slayer.

Best to put her on a plane home. Then maybe he'd follow in his car. Take some time to suss out what all these new feelings he had meant. The things she made him feel were… astounding. She was so innocent, so full of life. Buffy Summers made him long for things he had no right to long for, having shuffled off mortal cares and desires along with the mortal coil. She made him feel alive. She made him feel hope.

He was running full tilt into the unknown and he couldn't quite catch up with himself. Did he really want to embrace this new way of life? Leave the carnage and bloodshed behind and live as a man? He'd have to try it out on his own. Without her around, confusing him with her smile and her scent. If after some time alone, he still felt the same way about her, was still content to simply snack on people instead of killing them, to refrain from the worst kinds of evil, well then. He'd drive straight to Sunnyhell and he'd fight for her with everything he had.

He didn't think it was completely without hope. The _something_ that was there had grown by leaps and bounds. Given enough time, he could convince her that he was worth taking a chance on, he was sure of it. She hadn't left him yet, had she? Hadn't tried to kill him either. Instead she smiled with him. Touched him. Wanted to know his opinions. Listened to him reciting poetry like the utter prat that he was. And she hadn't even laughed at him. He could devote his entire unlife to a woman like that, be whatever she wanted him to be.

It was the ring. The ring changed everything. He could meet her in the light, where she belonged. There, she could forget he was a creature of the night, a creature of darkness, and treat him as a man.

Lost in his thoughts, he drove through the city, and soon found they'd arrived at their destination.

He put the car in park, and twisted so he could wrap both arms around her, head buried in her hair. She gave a sleepy mewl, and he knew then he wouldn't need any time apart from her at all, that no matter how long he stayed away, nothing would change. What he felt was love, love so deep he was sure his heart would start beating from the force of it.

"Wake up, sweetheart. We're here". She made a drowsy grunt of protest. "Come on. Got a nice big comfy bed waiting for you". He gave her a little shake.

Her eyes flickered open and she smacked her lips. Sitting up, she looked at his chest. "Ugh. I drooled all over you".

"Like that's going to bother me. Let's get you tucked snug in your beddie-bye and you can drool on me all you want". The look that passed over her face made him gloat. So, the Slayer was thinking about getting naughty with him was she? He wouldn't mind one bit if she did. Just because he'd realized he was madly in love with her didn't mean he didn't still want to shag her silly.

"I'm hoping for a drool-free night," she said. Then she looked out the window and realized where they were. She turned to him, surprise and excitement making her eyes big and round. "Really?"

"Well, I did promise you".

"Yeah, but… the Plaza? Wow…" Suddenly her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Do I want to know how you're paying for this? I'm not going to have to stake you, am I?"

"Guilt-free accommodations, Slayer. No evil involved. Maybe just a bit of petty crime".

She bit her lip, considering. "No. Don't tell me". Her eyes strayed back to the front doors, the glowing lobby entrance. "It wasn't a real promise you gave me, to bring me here. You were making fun of me while you were torturing me. Does that make this creepy?"

"I wasn't torturing you, I was holding you hostage. Completely different". She stiffened, but before she could get angry he hurried on. "Don't… Buffy, I'm trying to make it up to you. Please. I'm sorry I did those bad, evil things. This is sorry, okay?"

"You can't just buy me off. I haven't forgiven you, you know. You have a lot to prove".

"I know".

She gave him a little smile. "Is it a suite?"

"The best they had".

"You're crazy. I'm crazy". She slid to the door and got out. Poking her head back in the open door, she said, "Are you coming or not?"

He didn't need to be asked twice.

When Buffy saw the tub, all thoughts of going straight to bed seemed to fly right out of her mind. "Oooh! Pretty! I need to be in there right now". She immediately plugged it and started the water. Examining the various little bottles she found on the edge of the tub, she showed him excitedly. "Look, there're all these different scents to choose from". She flipped a few caps and sniffed them. Holding two out, she said, "Which do you like best?"

He smelled them carefully, then handed one back to her. "This one".

"Okay," she bubbled happily, and poured it into the water. Spike was touched. She'd wanted him to choose. Did she do it because she knew how much scents affected him, or was she just being all girlish? His nostrils flared as the heady scent permeated the air. He had to leave the room.

"I'll get things sorted. Order up some room service".

It wasn't long before she called him back. Safely hidden under the bubbles, she was a sight to see. Spike could imagine what it would feel like to join her in the tub. He remembered her body under the shower, warm and wet and glistening. He was so hard he thought it might be causing damage to his sensitive bits.

He'd been resisting his impulses and squashing his desire for her for days now, and he didn't know how he was managing to hold on to his control. He wasn't used to denying himself what he wanted. He still wanted her to be the one to come to him, but… patience was not his strong point.

"Would… would you wash my hair for me?" she asked him shyly as he stood watching her from the doorway, eyes hooded. His cock throbbed and pulsed. How could she not realize what she was doing to him? She knew how he loved to touch her hair. If he went anywhere near her right now…

He gritted his teeth and sat on the edge of the tub. "Buffy, I need you to listen to me. Since the moment I first saw you, I've wanted to shag you. I know I haven't been… I've been subduing all my baser instincts for days now, but that doesn't mean they're gone. If I touch you, right now, I'll never stop. Do you understand me? Is that what you want?"

Her thoughts played across her face. She licked her lips and he was almost lost. The moment dragged on and on.

"No," she finally answered him. "Well, yes, but. When I think about it, I still remember… being tied up… and you… and it's not happy. I can't forget that. Not yet".

He was disappointed, but he couldn't blame her. Drusilla might have got off on what he'd done, but Buffy was pure. He'd tried to sully her, and he regretted it now.

It didn't mean the memory didn't make him hard though. Still a monster.

"I need to… I'm going to go out for a bit. I'm doing my best here, but I'm not a good man, not good at all". His voice was cracking with the effort he was making to hold himself back. "I'm a demon, and I have to fight my nature to not just take what I want. I want you. I crave you with every fiber in my body. If I stay with you, near you, where I can smell you… I'm going to lose control, and it won't matter if you want me to or not".

Her eyes were wide and frightened and he cursed himself for telling her these things, for reminding her of his nature, but she had to know what she was doing to him. He had to protect her from himself. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hush. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. This… it's hard. Not being evil. Not giving in. You make it worth it, but. I'm… I'm doing what I have to so I don't bollix this up. Don't hurt you more. Understand?"

"Where are you going to go?"

"Out. Get pissed. Find a spot of violence. I don't know. I'll come back when it's better". He moved away, needing to leave quickly.

"Spike!" she called out. He turned back. "Thank you. I… You've been really good at making me forget. So I haven't really thought about how difficult it must be for you. You make it seem natural, you know?"

"Trust me, Buffy, it's not".

"I get it. And thanks for… thanks for believing in me enough to be honest".

"I need to go now," he said lowly. "If you keep saying these things to me, I won't leave".

She splashed water and bubbles at him. "Go. Come back safe".

* * *

Spike returned just before dawn. Buffy felt him slide under the covers next to her. He smelled like booze and smoke and blood. Her nose wrinkled, but she only said, "Better?"

"Yeah". He was on his side, facing away from her, and Buffy tentatively moved closer and put her arm over him, barely pressing into his back. He gave a hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" She quickly pulled away.

"It's not you. I'm just hurt, is all".

Buffy sat up, shocked. "Hurt? But the ring -"

"Took it off," he interrupted her. He rolled onto his back, groaning. "Wanted to feel like myself again".

"Yourself as in 'I'm a blood-thirsty killer' yourself?" she asked in distress.

"No, luv. No innocents died tonight. Just needed a good brawl. Nothing but fists and fangs and my feeble wits to protect me. Not much to brag about if there's no risk to it. No glory".

Relieved, she turned on the light. "I don't know if I should say 'you're such a man' or 'you're such a vampire".

"Prob'ly a bit of both, pet. What are you doing?"

"I want to see," she lifted his shirt and examined him. "Ouch. Did you… do you need blood?"

Buffy hadn't asked about his feeding habits since Tahoe, and he hadn't told her, other than the declaration that he wouldn't kill to feed anymore. They both pretended that he got his nourishment from the meals he shared with her.

"I'm fine. Don't fuss over me. All I need is a bit of sleep".

She turned off the light and settled on to her back. "Can I… would it hurt if I held you?"

"You know I'm not going to refuse an offer like that". He rolled into her, and they both sighed.

His head was in the crook of her neck, lips against her pulse point. They tickled when he spoke. "I love you, Buffy".

"Spike," she warned him, tense. "Don't. Don't say it. We can't".

"I can. I do. I love you, and you have to see that's it true. Why else… I couldn't do this, try like this, if I didn't".

She stroked his head. "I don't understand how you can love me without a soul".

"Don't need a soul to love. Just need a heart".

"Your heart's dead".

"Don't be so literal," he said, exasperated. "I've loved you for a long time I think. Dru knew it, that's why she left me. I thought if I killed you…it would fix it. I know I shouldn't love you. You're the bloody Slayer".

"Gee, thanks for making it sound so awful".

"Well, it's wrong. I know it. I'm not a complete idiot. I should be tearing your throat out and bathing in your blood. I can't… It terrifies me, that I feel this way about you, but I wouldn't ever want it to stop".

"I know what you mean. My sacred duty is wiping out evil. I should be staking you instead of holding you and worrying that you're hurt".

"You're worried?"

"Only a little. Don't think that it means something". Her hand continued to play in his hair, fingers teasing out the curls.

"Buffy…" he sat up, pulled her with him. His voice was hopeful, his face naked with emotion. "Buffy, do you think you could ever love me? Even a little?"

"Spike," she wailed. "Why can't you just let things be?"

"Just a crumb. A smidgen of hope. That's all I'm asking for," he pleaded with her. Buffy couldn't bear the way he was looking at her and she turned away.

"If you were a man instead of a vampire, and you'd never… If I were just meeting you for the first time, the way you are now…" she was so quiet he could barely hear her. He turned her face back to him.

"But I'm not. I can't change those things".

"I know. But… if. I think I would love you already". His face suffused with joy and she spoke quickly to temper it. "Spike. Don't… it doesn't mean anything. Because, what you are - I don't know how to trust you. I can't take that kind of risk. The cost is too high if I'm wrong". _Like with Angel_, she didn't add.

"I'll prove myself to you. I promise. I'll be so trust-worthy you'll think I've become a Boy Scout".

"Let's not make promises or plans, okay? I've already been there, done that, and it hasn't worked out". She pulled him to her and lay back down so she didn't have to see his earnest expression anymore. "Look, if you were to come back to Sunnydale, I'd be happy to see you. Can that be enough?"

"It's more than I deserve".

"Maybe. Go to sleep now". And he did.

* * *

Spike was up only a few hours later. "Why are you up so early?" Buffy yawned.

"Lots to see and do today. Got to fit it all in".

"I didn't know we were in a rush".

He stopped dressing and stared at her gape-mouthed. "Spike?" she prompted him.

"I forgot to tell you. 'M such a wanker. I'm putting you on the plane tomorrow. Got to get you home in time for classes next week. You don't wanna fall too far behind".

"Oh".

"That's it? Oh? Thought you'd be excited. See your mum, your chums".

"No, no, I am. It's just. It makes it real. This'll be over. I'll miss it". She plucked at the blankets on the bed, unable to look at him as she said, "I'll miss _you_". _And everybody will think I'm crazy when I don't hate you._

"I'll see you soon enough. You're not getting rid of me that easily, Summers".

She gave him a sad smile. "But it won't be the same anymore. You know that, right? You're not going to be able to show up in Sunnydale and still be my… whatever you are".

He went to her and got down on his knees in front of her. 'M your willing slave. Whatever you want, I'll be it".

She pulled him up. "Just don't be evil, okay? That's all I want. Don't make me regret not staking you".

He waggled his hand in her face. "Lost your chance, Slayer. I'm back to being unstake-able".

"When I get my strength back, we're going to have a rematch. I know I can take you".

He gave her his cockiest look and went back to dressing. "How long 'till I have to start trembling in fear?"

"It took three or four days last time. So probably right about when I get home. Which is too bad, because I really want to beat on you for doing this to me in the first place".

"Buffy," he said seriously. "I need you to tell me something, because I can't – without the soul, I'm not sure of the right answer". She nodded, curious. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I am. But I'm not sorry at the same time, because of the way it's worked out. None of the good things would have happened otherwise. Is that okay? Am I wrong to feel like that? I want to know, because I think it's important that I have the right answer. To help me to do right by you".

"I get what you're saying, but… okay. It's like this. You're lucky things turned out alright, but they shouldn't have. I don't want you to be even a little bit glad that you kidnapped me or drugged me, because then you might think it's okay to do something like that again. Just in case it works out the next time too. Which it probably wouldn't".

He turned that over in his mind, and she added, "Me ending up liking you is because you quit being evil. Not because of the idiotic plan you had in the first place. I would have ended up liking you eventually, without being kidnapped or drugged first, as long as you had become the same person you are now. Understand?"

"Yeah. I think I got it. It would have taken longer, because you wouldn't have been with me all the time and been forced to spend time with me. Gotten to know my charming self. But I could have made it work somehow". He pulled on his boots. "You know, I do know right from wrong most of the time. I remember what I knew as a human. The big things are obvious, yeah? Don't kill innocents. Don't steal from your neighbors. All that rot. It's the shades of grey that are tricky".

"So you know killing is wrong but you just don't care? Is that it?"

"Right on the money. Demon wants what it wants and doesn't care how it gets it". He considered that, and added, "'Cept now I care that you care".

Spike was ready to leave. "I'm going to nip down to the concierge and see about some things. Why don't you call your mum, tell her to pick you up at the airport tomorrow night, and meet me down in the lobby when you're done?"

Buffy mulled over their conversation in the back of her mind as she rode the elevator down. She didn't like the responsibility of being his conscience. It was too dangerous. What would happen when he decided he didn't care what she thought anymore? Or when she died and he didn't have to please her any longer? He'd go right back to killing, she guessed, and she would be at fault because she hadn't stopped him permanently.

It was a first step, though. She felt like he deserved a chance to become good in his own right. He'd earned it with the changes he'd made so far on his own.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Notes:**

Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Fox, Mutant Enemy, Dark Horse, Joss Whedon, and who knows who else. But not me.

* * *

"You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, mister," Buffy told Spike as they strolled down a street in Soho in the crisp morning air. "I could easily spend all day here".

"Don't make an Olympic sport of it, pet. You only need to pick something out for tonight. I'll bring you back tomorrow if you like".

"But there's soooo many choices," she whined. "How can I decide?"

"You'll get nothing new if you don't hurry it up".

"Meanie". Buffy reminded herself she'd be back and chose a sparkly little dress to wear that evening.

"You going to stick with the usual?" she asked him, nodding at his clothes.

"Don't mess with perfection, baby". She rolled her eyes.

They took the subway back uptown. Spike fidgeted and jittered the moment they boarded the subway car.

"What's your deal?" Buffy asked him exasperatedly. "Did you eat too much sugar this morning?"

He stilled himself with an obvious effort. She watched as his eyes lost their focus, and his head swiveled back and forth, observing unseen events play out.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "You're starting to creep me out".

"Sorry. Just, ah…" He got up and paced the length of the car.

Buffy rose and stood in front of him, trapping him. His eyes came to rest on her, yellow mixed with blue. He cocked his head and evaluated her. "Slayer…" There was just enough of a threat in his voice that she subtly shifted into a fighting stance.

"What's going on, Spike?" Her own voice was low and dangerous.

For a moment he bounced on the balls of his feet, looking as though he were going to engage her, but then turned and slouched into a seat, feet propped up on another, thumbs tucked in his belt loops, arrogant and cocky.

"Just reliving a moment, pet. Nothing to worry about".

Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of a moment?"

His grin was feral, and Buffy was reminded that he was no tame kitty-cat. "You'd rather not know".

"Indulge me. Did you kill somebody?"

"Not just anybody. Somebody special. Somebody like you," he bragged.

Her hands began to sweat. "A Slayer".

"A glorious Slayer. Not as good as you, mind, but one to be proud of".

"Proud of killing?"

His attitude instantly changed. "Ah, Buffy, let's drop it, luv. I'm not going to give you any answers you like. I can't change what I am or what I've done".

"But are you sorry?"

His eyes pinned hers, a cold blue. "No".

"No?" she repeated in disbelief.

"No. Still a demon. Still no soul. No conscience. I killed her, and it was a good kill, and I don't regret it". At her look, he huffed, "I told you you'd rather not know".

Now it was Buffy's turn to pace. When she stopped in front of him once more, he said, "Look, Buffy. You know what I am. You know what I've done. I'm sorry to have reminded you of it. I told you I won't kill anymore. That's… that's as good as I can do".

"So… if you had the chance. To kill that Slayer again. Right here, right now. Would you?"

The train slowed to a stop and the doors hissed open. Spike hesitated, and then said, "Maybe. I don't know".

She whirled and slipped through the open door just before it slid shut, Spike staring after her in startled surprise.

* * *

He found her sitting outside the door to their suite. The panic in his chest subsided, but with one look at her guilt took over. She'd obviously been crying. "I didn't have a key," was all she said when he stopped in front of her.

He opened the door and held it for her without a word. She went straight to the bathroom and closed the door. He heard the water turn on.

Spike gave a weary sigh and flopped onto the couch. He figured he probably should have come up with a better answer, but of course he'd bollixed it up. He hadn't wanted to lie to her, though. She'd seemed to appreciate it when he'd been honest the night before about how he might lose control. He thought she'd understood what he was and had come to accept it.

Obviously not.

_Give the girl some credit, Spike, lad. Look how much she's had to deal with these past few days._

Yeah, that was true. Buffy had come a long way in trusting and accepting him already. And he knew, deep down, his best wasn't ever going to be good enough for the girl. She deserved more. She had every right to be disappointed in him. Didn't mean she didn't exasperate him with her high'n'mighty moral attitude though. Couldn't she cut him a break? He was obviously trying.

When she came out, she sat down on the other end of the couch, holding herself very still.

"Buffy…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Spike. You… you've changed so much this week, and I've been here, seeing it. If I hadn't, there's no way I would have ever believed it of you. You tell me you're not good, and I agree, you're not. You haven't been. But I think you could be. I think you're trying and you're doing your best, and I don't want you to stop".

He stared at her in open-mouthed surprise.

"What, did you think I was going to ream you out?"

"Well, yeah. I deserve it".

"Yup. You do. I'm not going to pretend that what you said doesn't bother me. I'm… upset doesn't even begin to cover it, but I'm upset that the memory of killing a Slayer is obviously a good one for you. I'm angry that you said you might do it all over again given the chance. The absurd thing is, I'm more angry with me than with you, because I'm the one who forgot what you are. You didn't; you're just being you".

Well, that was unexpected. Suddenly Spike was desperate to make her understand. "You… uh…" He didn't know how to begin. He tried again. "I want to tell you, you're so incredible. So amazing. I… I don't deserve your friendship".

Buffy relaxed just a little. "Probably not, but you've got it now, so unless you decide to jump back on the evil bandwagon, I'm not going to abandon you. I want to help you. I want to see just who you can become. Because I really think it'll be somebody remarkable". She reached over to him and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand as she said it. He grabbed it and kissed her knuckles.

"Can I… would you get mad if I try to explain myself?" he asked hesitantly.

"I can't promise I won't get mad, but, please. I want you to be honest with me. I want to understand you".

His heart split open at that, and love poured out of his eyes. Animated with newfound hope, he said, "See, it's not the kill, so much. It's the battle. The fight. Going up against a Slayer is the ultimate challenge for a vampire. Most don't win, because the Slayer is formidable. She has to be, to keep us in check. So if you put yourself up against that and you win, well. Means you're the best, doesn't it? That's something to be proud of".

"But… you could just win without killing".

"You know that's not so, pet. It's a fight to the death. It's the way it has to be". He watched her process that, and then he said, "So when I said I would do it again… it's the battle I want. The victory. I'm the Slayer of Slay-_ersss_, plural, and that means something in my world. Do you understand?"

Buffy was silent, contemplating. "I get that. I like it when I win too. The big fights. It's exciting. I like knowing _I'm_ the best".

She was lost in thought for a moment. "You know I intend on a rematch with you, right? We'll have to come up with something other than to the death, though. I wonder what it could be?" She gave him a mischievous smile.

Spike's mind flashed on an image of him ripping all of Buffy's clothes off and pinning her in victory. Or the other way around. He wasn't picky. "I'm sure we'll come up with something".

Feeling confident that she'd forgiven him, or at least wasn't mad any longer, he slid closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into him. "I didn't drink her blood," he told her. "Nikki's. The Slayer's. It was a warrior's battle. She wasn't food". He thought that might be important for her to know.

She fingered his scar on her neck. "But you bit me. Fed on me". She turned to him, suddenly hurt. "Was I not a warrior?"

Spike couldn't help but laugh. The way this girl's mind worked! "Yeah, pet, you're a warrior. I just…" He ducked his head, embarrassed. "I wanted to taste you. Have you. It was the next best thing".

"Have me?" she asked, confused. Spike shifted uncomfortably and she understood. "Oh. Huh".

She stood and went to the window, looking out. "I think I've had enough vampire confessions for today. Too much at once might make my brain explode".

He wasn't sure if she was angry with him or not. He'd been about to tell her about his coat, but decided against it for now. Probably not one of his better ideas.

He stood too. "Do you want to go out again? Go on with our day? Or are you done?"

She pointed to the view of Central Park. "More to see, isn't there? All we've seen is the Statue of Liberty. Which, I have to tell you, I did not know it was on an island way out there. I thought we could just walk right up to it".

"Well, we could have taken the boat if you weren't so keen on shopping".

She gave him an incredulous look. "A girl's gotta have her priorities straight!" She took him by the arm. "Come on Mr. Tour Guide. Whatcha got planned next?"

* * *

What Spike had planned next was a carriage ride through Central Park, followed by a late picnic lunch in the sun. The concierge had provided them with a picnic basket full of tasty goodies. Unpacking the basket, Buffy gave out excited squeals. "I tell you, these upscale hotels are the way to go. They sure do know how to take care of their guests! All Motel 6 does is give you is some cheap soap and maybe a pen if you're lucky".

Spike lay back on the checkered blanket, hands beneath his head. "You like being pampered, luv?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "That's a stupid question". Opening one container, she sniffed at it. "Ewww. Is that blood?"

He grabbed it from her. "I was hungry. Seemed convenient".

She reflected on that. Better than the alternative. "I can't believe the concierge could get blood for you. Wasn't he even curious?"

"These rich people have all kinds of quirks. He didn't even bat an eyelash".

Buffy munched on some grapes. "I liked the carriage ride. It was a nice way to tour Central Park". What she didn't want to add was that it had been almost romantic too. She still didn't want to think of Spike quite that way. Being friends was one thing. It was… well, not acceptable. Or understandable. But it was explainable. Yes, it could be explained. Which would have to be done sooner or later. Preferably later, whenever Spike showed up in Sunnydale and everybody was wondering why she wasn't staking him.

She didn't want to explain it any sooner than that. This was her time to treasure, and she didn't want to hear her friends or her watcher's disbelieving comments. They wouldn't understand. They'd turn it into something twisted and wrong.

So being friendly with Spike was the limit. Anything romantic and… the gang would probably have her committed. She didn't think she could argue with that. Hello, soulless vampire. Look how well being with the _souled_ vampire turned out.

_But he couldn't lose his soul_, her mind argued. _It's not like he could get any more evil_. She told it to shut up.

When Buffy opened the dessert box, an envelope tumbled out. She gave Spike a curious look. "Open it," he said.

She did, and took out the folded piece of paper. It was covered in elegant script – a poem, she realized. She gave it a quick once-over, and then handed it solemnly to Spike. "Would you please read it to me?" she asked with tears in her eyes.

He was embarrassed, but he did as she asked. After clearing his throat he said,

"I love you,  
Not only for what you are,  
But for what I am  
When I am with you.

I love you,  
Not only for what  
You have made of yourself,  
But for what  
You are making of me.  
I love you  
For the part of me  
That you bring out;  
I love you  
For putting your hand  
Into my heaped-up heart  
And passing over  
All the foolish, weak things  
That you can't help  
Dimly seeing there,  
And for drawing out  
Into the light  
All the beautiful belongings  
That no one else had looked  
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you  
Are helping me to make  
Of the lumber of my life  
Not a tavern  
But a temple;  
Out of the works  
Of my every day  
Not a reproach  
But a song.

I love you  
Because you have done  
More than any creed  
Could have done  
To make me good  
And more than any fate  
Could have done  
To make me happy.  
You have done it  
Without a touch,  
Without a word,  
Without a sign.  
You have done it  
By being yourself.  
Perhaps that is what  
Being a friend means,  
After all."

He cleared his throat again and fidgeted with the paper.

"Did you write that?" she asked, fighting not to make with the major swoonage she was feeling.

"Nah. Nobody knows who wrote it, maybe some bloke by the name of Ray Croft. It's, um… it's often used at weddings. For obvious reasons. I don't… you know, expect that. The sentiment just seemed appropriate. Spot on, actually".

She gently took the paper back from him and read it again, fingers tracing over the words. "I'm going to frame this," she told him. "It's probably the most beautiful thing anybody has ever told me".

He gave a depreciating wave of his hand. "S'no more than the truth".

Buffy folded it carefully back into the envelope, then turned to the dessert once more, all solemnity forgotten. "Yay! Brownies! You want?"

Spike took one from her, and then lay back down on the blanket. Buffy lay down as well, at an angle, so her head rested on his upper abdomen. They lay in the dappled sun in contented silence, listening to the squeals of children in the distance and watching the clouds float by.

Feeling safe and comfortable, she got up the courage to say, "I want to ask you something, but you have to promise me not to get dirty or… or laugh at me. Okay?"

"Anything you want, sweetheart".

"When you say you've always wanted to… you know… _shag me_," she whispered, keeping her eyes firmly on the clouds above, "did you really mean it?"

"Absolutely. You're bloody incredible. The way you move, the way you smell. Breathtaking. From the very first fight I knew you'd been a goer in bed".

"A goer? That's a good thing right?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "So when you told Angel it was just to hurt him…"

"Don't get me wrong, it would give me great pleasure to know I had something he wanted. But it's all about you Buffy. You're so passionate, so alive, so perfect. We'd be bloody amazing together, I know it".

"That's not the way you made it sound before. When you first got the Gem," Buffy said quietly, pain radiating off of her.

"Didn't mean it, pet," Spike responded, stroking her hair. "All's fair in love and war and all that rot. Was just trying to throw you off your game. Any fool can tell that you'd be a woman worth keeping".

"You really think? Because nobody else seems -"

He cut her off, knowing where she was going. "That Parker bloke is a complete tosser. He's a stupid boy who doesn't know how to be a man, he just wants to amuse himself. He's not worth worrying over. He was a fool to use you like that". He sat up slightly so he could see her face. "You want me to eat him for you?"

She gave a small chuckle, but shook her head. "No. Don't joke about eating people. It's disturbing knowing you'd really do it".

He lay back down. "Fair enough".

"It's just… I've only, you know, twice, and both times… bad things happened after. Both guys didn't want me anymore. And I have to wonder if it's me".

"There's no sodding way it's you. And if you're talking about dear old Angel, well, we already know he's a giant wanker. But think about it. Couldn't have been that awful if you shagged the soul right out of him".

"I don't know how you manage to be a pig and incredibly sweet at the same time".

"S'a talent. What I do know, if it had been me, my curse, I wouldn't have just left you. I would have done whatever it took to fix it".

"I do believe you would. But… why didn't Angel?"

"Giant wanker. No other reason".

She rolled over onto her stomach so she could see him. "Thanks, Spike. I don't know why you're so good at making me feel better, but you do".

"Just see things as they are, luv". He reached up and brushed a stray lock back. Keeping his face neutral, he asked "You wish Angel would fix it? Be able to be together?"

"I thought I did. More than anything". She gave him a tiny, sad smile. "My first love. It was… everything. I thought I would die without him. When I killed him, part of me did, you know? And then he came back, and I thought, here's a second chance".

"But it wasn't".

"No. It wasn't. He left, and I didn't die".

"And now?"

She rolled onto her back so they were side by side. "Things change".


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes:**

Dialogue borrowed from 'Crush' (S5).

Thanks for the awesome reviews!

* * *

Buffy rubbed her belly and gave a small moan of discomfort. "When I said you should fatten me up for the slaughter, I was just joking".

"You needed to put on a few, luv. You were looking a bit peaked after I, uh… You needed the vitamins".

She whapped him on the shoulder. "You're right. I do deserve a meal at a fancy restaurant. Thanks," she added as he slipped her coat over her shoulders. "What was I thinking buying this little dress? It's cold here!"

"You were thinking you'd look good enough to eat. Which is a silly thing to do around a vampire, I might add". He feigned biting her, movie-vampire style, then led her outside as she giggled at him.

Climbing into a cab, she said, "I can't believe you're taking me dancing. Do you dance?"

After telling the driver where they wanted to go, Spike leaned back. "Of course. Like any gentleman I know the quadrille and the waltz and…"

"Dork". She stroked the black silken trousers he'd put on in deference to the restaurant's dress code. "I like these. I bet they feel nice".

Pulling his duster around himself he whispered, "Yeah, but they don't offer much protection". Buffy's eyes widened. "Well, you're touching me. Can't help it," he pointed out. She snatched her hand back.

Buffy looked out the window instead, suddenly letting out a squeal. "Oh, I want to go there first," she exclaimed, pointing.

Spike leaned over so he could see what she was pointing at. "People always go up the Empire State Building at night in old movies. It's a totally NYC thing to do," she explained.

"You heard the lady. Change of plans, mate," he told the taxi driver.

"How late is it open 'till?" Buffy asked the driver.

"Last elevator up is at 1:15AM," he responded. "Best to go now, before clubbing".

"Yes. Please, take us there instead". He swung out into a different lane and made the turn.

Once on the observation deck, Buffy said, "Wow. This is just amazing. It's so pretty up here. Have you ever done this?" Spike shook his head. "Oh goodie! Another first for us. It's hard to find things you've never done before, what with you being so old and all".

"Lots of firsts with you, Buffy. Never had an afternoon picnic in Central Park. Never seen Niagara Falls. Never been on a sodding boat in a poncy blue poncho". He gave a small sigh. "Never been so happy before in all my long years".

Buffy scrutinized his face intently. "You really mean that, don't you. You're not just saying it to be all melodramatic and sappy".

He gave a little shrug, and looked away, suddenly bashful.

She turned back to the view. "I can't believe I'm going home tomorrow and this'll all be over. Doesn't seem real". She tucked her hand inside of his. "I have a lot of wonderful memories to cherish now". Turning back to him, she squeezed his hand and added, "And I mean that". They stared at each other for a long moment, then Buffy gave a sudden shiver.

"Brrr! Definitely should've bought something warmer ".

"Come here," Spike said, opening his coat wide. When she leaned back into him, he wrapped it around the both of them. "Better?"

"Mmm. Much". She rested the back of her head against his chest and looked out over the twinkling lights of the city. They were pressed tightly together, and Buffy could feel every inch of him through his thin silky clothes. _Definitely no protection there_ she thought to herself. Spike shifted slightly and she shivered again, but this time it wasn't with cold.

_Would it be so wrong to kiss? Just this once? Before I leave and go back to my real life?_ She could very easily talk herself into it. Just a moment of passion that could be blamed on the magic of the atmosphere.

She twisted inside his coat so they were face to face, hands on his firm chest, bodies so close that there wasn't an iota of space. Spike looked down at her with dark eyes. Her legs trembled just a little bit.

"Spike," she breathed. "There's one other thing people always do here. In the movies. At the end of the movie. It would be a shame to visit the Empire State building and not have the full experience, don't you think?"

His nostrils flared and the look he gave her made her panties dampen with anticipation. Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her reverently, with soft and full lips. She closed her eyes and gave a tiny moan, and he deepened the kiss, lips parting just enough to suck her lower lip in. Her arms crept up around his neck, pulling him down to her.

Oh… _wow_. Buffy knew she should end this now, before things got out of control, but her mouth had other ideas. Her tongue darted out and met his, while his hand crept down to cup her ass, pulling her more tightly against him. He ground into her, just the tiniest bit, and she gasped.

_Should stop, should stop, should stop!_ her mind repeated over and over, but she firmly ignored it. One of her hands tangled in his hair, and his mouth slid across her jaw and down her neck, tongue laving and teeth nipping their way down to the base. She threw her head back, and his teeth and tongue worked their way back up. Their mouths met again, furiously, gentleness lost to their passion.

The hand on her ass slid down a little farther, lifting her leg slightly, so he could press his hard length against where her panties were soaked with moisture. "Ungh!" she exclaimed, and wrenched her mouth away from his. Panting slightly, eyes glazed, she said, "I don't want to go clubbing anymore. I want to go back to the hotel".

Spike gazed at her through lidded eyes. "Are you sure, luv?" he asked, and kissed her again, more tenderly this time.

"God, yes. Take me back, Spike". He moved with a sudden speed, pulling her along to the elevators as if she would change her mind given a moment to think. He was probably right. She was acting crazy, and if she stopped and considered what she was doing for even a millisecond, she would put a halt to it.

She didn't let herself consider it. The whole way down the elevator and into a cab, she kept herself pressed against him, kissing and caressing as if there was nothing else in the world, completely ignoring everything around them. Spike had her at a fever pitch. His hands never quite strayed too far for public decency, but they didn't need to. Everywhere he touched burned and tingled. Buffy wasn't sure if she would be able to walk when the cab came to a halt.

He helped her out, keeping her upright with a strong arm. While they waited in the lobby for an elevator, Spike said, "Last chance. I get you in that room, I won't be able to let you go".

Buffy quaked. "Just… promise me I won't regret it. You'll still be you tomorrow".

Spike took both her hands in his. "Buffy. I love you. I would never, ever mean to hurt you. I promise you you'll have the most amazing, passionate night of your life and I'll never give you cause to regret it".

And there was the swoonage. No fighting it now. "How do you do that?" she breathed, awestruck. The elevator doors opened and he spun her inside in a whirl of kisses, hands tangled in her hair and pulling it out of her up-do. As soon as the doors closed, he fell to his knees in front of her and slid his hands up her legs, under her dress.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked.

"You don't need these anymore," he smirked, ripping her panties off her and stuffing them in his coat pocket.

"Oh… god". One finger was slowly caressing her under her dress, spreading her juices up and down. "There's… there's a camera in here," she shuddered.

"They can't see what I'm doing, sweetheart".

"No, but they know!"

"Do you want me to stop?" His finger penetrated her slightly, and she had to reach forward and steady herself with her hands on his head.

"Noooo," she moaned. "Don't ever stop".

The doors dinged open and he scooped her up and carried her down the hall. He set her on her feet and pushed her up against the door, her hands tangling in his hair again. His hand snaked back to between her legs, and his mouth crushed hers. The other hand tweaked her nipple through her dress.

Buffy was an incoherent mess of sighs and groans. When two curved fingers slid inside her while his thumb circled her clit, she came with a shuddering gasp. "Oh, God, Spike!" she panted as he supported her weight. "Please. Take me inside. Now". She couldn't wait anymore. She needed to feel him, touch him everywhere.

Spike managed to get the key in the lock without breaking their kiss, and the door swung open. They practically fell into the room, only staying on their feet thanks to Spike's agile save. He shoved the door shut, and Buffy started pushing the coat off his shoulders. He stepped back to get it off, and she moaned at the loss of contact.

He looked completely edible, with his wild curls, dark eyes, and full lips. The black silk clothes clung to his body, and she could see his erection straining at his pants. She knew he'd had hard-ons when they'd been sleeping together, but he'd always discreetly positioned himself so she wouldn't have to feel it, both of them pretending it wasn't happening. She'd seen the size of his cock, though, felt it pressed against her, and she longed to know what he felt like in her hands.

Shrugging her own coat off and kicking her shoes away, she moved towards him, toes buoyed by the plush carpet. All of a sudden, his entire body tensed and his head snapped up, gazing into the darkness behind her. "Spike?" she asked.

"There's my sweet William, he's come home to his Mummy," said a silken voice behind her.

Then Buffy was trapped.

* * *

Spike was lost to Buffy. When she came against him, quivering and trembling in his arms, he almost came himself. He debated taking her right there, against the door, but she deserved better. She deserved to be worshiped in the bed, seen to like the treasure that she was.

Somehow, he got the door open and had them inside, almost falling to the carpeted floor in their haste. When Buffy began to push at his coat, he stepped back to get it off. Her cheeks were pink with desire, eyes brilliant, lips bruised with kisses. She smelled delicious.

Something tickled his senses, and he inhaled, trying to suss out what was hidden beneath Buffy's scent.

He was distracted by the sight of her body now that her coat wasn't hiding it. He was going to rip that dress right off of her and –

His head snapped up. He knew that scent. His eyes bore into the darkness behind Buffy. He barely even heard her ask, "Spike?"

All his senses, every part of him, was focused on the shape behind her.

She walked forward, and he saw her. His black beauty. His love for over a century. Spike's whole body trembled. She gave him a delectably wicked smile. _Sire…_ his mind whispered. _Saviour_…

"There's my sweet William, he's come home to his Mummy". _Ohhh… oh yes. Remade. Reborn. Something glowing and glittering and effulgent._

Drusilla had come for him.

Nothing else mattered. Not the weeks apart. Not the cruel words she had said to him, not the things she had done.

Not the girl standing between them.

_Sire. Saviour. Yours forever._

A hundred and twenty years of habits and memories and desires could never be forgotten, never ignored, not with that scent, that voice he had submitted to for so long caressing him.

He had eyes only for his dark princess. They watched her every move. She stood right behind the girl (_the girl the girl who was the girl somebody I need somebody not important) _and grabbed her hair, pulling her head backwards, and wrapped her other arm around her chest, pinning her in a mockery of a lover's embrace. "Look who's come to make everything right again".

Yes, right, he needed it to be right again. She would make it right, make it like it was, make him complete again.

Drusilla swayed with the girl trapped in her grip. "The stars whispered to me, my William, they told me you had a present for me. Is this my pretty present?" She vamped and licked a path up her captive's neck. The girl began to cry and stuggle. The smell of her fear and her pumping blood filled him.

A low growl resounded in his chest and his own fangs descended.

"There's my bad dog. My killer. Born to slash ... and bash ... and... oh, bleed like beautiful poetry". Spike slid closer, yellow eyes watching the throbbing pulse.

"I know what my boy wants to eat," she crooned. With a preternaturally sharp fingernail, his sire sliced open the skin of her prisoner, blood welling from the cut on her upper breast. Spike leaned forward and sucked at it, ecstasy filling him at the taste (_sunshine and light and purity and goodness and no Buffy only blood so good desire for blood hot and thick sliding down_).

"Spike," the captive moaned in terror (_who's Buffy only Drusilla and the hunt the blood the kill what I was made for)_. "What are you doing? Help me".

Drusilla let go of the girl's hair and pulled him in for a kiss, their prey trapped between them. "Do her, my Spike. Put an end to her and we can be together again. Like it was. Like you want". He did want. No cares. No guilt. (_No love no happiness no Buffy)._ He hesitated, yellowed eyes suddenly confused.

Drusilla's eyes narrowed slightly and she yanked the girl's hair back again. "Don't worry, I'll make it all better. You'll be mine again when it's over. No more Slayer, no more ashes". With that, she sank her fangs into the girl's (_Buffy's Buffy's BUFFY'S)_ neck.

Spike's eyes lost their confused look and widened in horror. "NO!" he howled, and he ripped Buffy out of Dru's embrace, sending her careening behind him to the ground.

Drusilla licked her bloodied lips and gave an insanely evil grin. "Oooh, are we going to play first? I do so like a good game". She growled and launched herself at Spike, tumbling them both to the ground, where she pinned him and kissed him possessively. "She tastes like sunshine and daisies, she does. I can see why you'd want to keep her as a pet".

Spike rolled her over and she wriggled beneath him in pleasure. "Not good to keep pets that will burn and scorch, though. Better to be in my dark embrace where you belong. With the one who understands what you are meant to be". She rolled him and kissed him again, grinding into him, panting.

Spike could see Buffy crawling towards the door. Drusilla saw too. With a fluid motion she was off of him and had Buffy by the hair again, her neck twisted at an awkward angle.

"Do you want to play more games? Tie her up for a bit?"

They faced each other, breathless and snarling. Spike could taste Buffy's blood in his mouth from Drusilla's kiss, and his demon called for more. Buffy squirmed and fought, but the vampire was too strong for her.

"No more games," Spike growled. Drusilla had come for him. His sire was here, promising him everything he'd lost. But he didn't want that life anymore. Didn't want her. He wanted Buffy.

Drusilla cocked her head. "Come to me, my Spike".

He did. He lunged at Drusilla and pulled her to him harshly, whirling her around. She dropped Buffy and, growling fiercely, claimed Spike's mouth with her own, rubbing herself sinuously against him. Spike gave an answering growl, then ripped his mouth away from hers. He fixed Buffy with his amber eyes over Drusilla's shoulder.

"Run".

* * *

Buffy fought to get away from the crazy vampire, but she was still Slayer power-free. Events were rushing, swirling around her in confusion. Spike had… had changed, and the man she had come to know had disappeared before her very eyes. And now… now she didn't understand what was happening. The two vampires were snarling and kissing and she couldn't tell if they were fighting or about to mate like wild beasts.

All she knew was she was probably going to die. Spike… Spike was out of control. This wasn't the tender, passionate lover of only minutes ago. This was a feral demonic creature intent on bloodshed. This was what he really was. Not a man at all.

A killer.

This was the vampire who had promised to feed her to Drusilla.

When he pulled his sire into his embrace, they kissed violently, and Drusilla dropped Buffy to the ground. She got to her feet quickly, and then Spike spoke. He said only one word, his yellow eyes wild and violent as they fixed on her.

"Run".

Buffy ran.

END PART ONE


	17. Part II Chapter 17

**Author's Notes:**

Mwah hah hah hah hah.

Told you it would go bad.

Now that I'm caught up to my posting on elysian fields ( ), I won't be posting quite as often

Please excuse my poor use of stereotypical dialect (you'll see what I mean). Not my forte.

* * *

**PART II**

Buffy huddled shivering on a hard seat in the corner, wearing nothing but the short thin dress she'd put on hours ago. Maybe lifetimes ago. She couldn't quite comprehend how she'd ended up there.

The early morning light was just beginning to stream in the windows of the bus station, and she looked at the clock. It would probably be at least five more hours before Giles arrived. He'd told her not to leave the station. She wasn't planning on it. Where would she go? She had no shoes. She had no coat. She had no money, no ID. She didn't even have underwear.

Nope, this seat in the corner was where she was going to stay.

Besides, she needed to stay in this crowded station, amidst the swirl of noise and scents and humans that would keep her safe. Keep her hidden.

She shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself, but it was futile. A lady approached her, a large black woman with two children in tow. She sat next to Buffy and put a gentle hand on her arm.

Buffy jumped, startled, and looked at the woman with trepidation. What could she want?

"Honey-chile, I seen you sitting here all miserable and I can' help but wonder if you've someplace to go?"

"Y-yes," Buffy stammered. "My… my dad. He's coming to get me. I just have to wait for him. He should be here soon".

"How soon, honey?"

"I don't know. A few hours at the most".

"Look at you shiverin' and cold. Who done this to you?" she asked angrily, gesturing to Buffy's neck.

Buffy clasped a hand over the bite mark. "Nothing. Angry puppy," she said quickly.

The lady gave her a sharp look but didn't press further. Instead, she began to rummage in her luggage. She pulled out a pair of moccasin type boots and a thick sweater.

"Here, chile. These be way too big for you, but at least they'll be keepin' you warm. I goin' home to Florida today, won't be needin' them no more".

Buffy's eyes welled with tears. People could be so good, so kind, so _decent_. Without any reason to. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "If you give me your address I can mail them back to you when I get home".

"No need, honey. You just pass them on to someone who can use them when you're done". She reached into her purse and this time handed Buffy a five dollar bill. "Get yo'self something warm to eat". She hauled herself to her feet and corralled her children.

Touching the spot on her own neck that mirrored the wound on Buffy's, she said, "And don' be lettin' him get away with that. He just gonna do it 'gain an' 'gain 'till somebody stop him".

"I know," she answered forlornly. "I know".

Buffy pulled on the sweater and the boots, then got up and went to the bathroom. She'd needed to go for a long time, but the thought of walking around the station and the bathroom barefoot, amidst the filth of the floor and the stares of the other people, had kept her rooted firmly in place.

Looking in the mirror, she was surprised anybody had approached her. She looked frightening. Her hair was a mass of tangled snarls and her face was covered in smudged makeup, black smears following the paths of the tears down her face. Her neck was a mangled mess, and a thin angry red cut ran along her breast. The soles of her feet were covered in cuts, not that anybody could see them.

No wonder all the vaguely threatening shapes she'd fled past in the still of the night had left her alone. They'd probably been terrified of _her_.

As she tried to clean her face with the cheap brown paper towels, memories of the night flashed through her mind.

_"Run," he said. And she ran. Spinning, she fled to the door and wrenched it open, Drusilla's manic laughter following her as she sped down the hall. At the elevators she pounded on the down button, but the elevator wasn't coming and Buffy couldn't be sure that the vampires weren't chasing her._

_Spike's abrupt transformation from lover to predator had left her reeling, unable to process the sudden change. Through the haze of her terror and confusion she'd heard them talking about playing games. With her. And what better game than to make her think she had a chance to escape and then hunt her down? Track her like the prey that she was to them?_

_Unable to wait, Buffy abandoned the elevators and followed the exit signs to the staircase, her feet cold on the concrete steps that led down. Down and down, down fourteen flights of stairs till her breath came in harsh gasps and her legs felt like lead, she descended until she reached the bottom of the staircase and was faced with a choice. One door said "Lobby". The other said "Fire Exit" and was equipped with an alarm._

_She chose the fire exit. It let her out on the side of the hotel facing Central Park, the alarm jangling in her ears. She sprinted down the road, the detritus on the sidewalk cutting the soles of her feet, her thin dress doing nothing to protect her from the frigid night air. In the small, dark hours of the morning, the shadowy buildings loomed over her, concealing more terrors than just the ones she was fleeing. Her heart pounded in time with her feet, keeping up a steady percussive beat inside her head. The entrance to a subway station loomed before her and she took it, slipping down the steps, legs tangling in exhaustion. She leapt over the turnstiles, like an action hero in a movie, and continued on to the tunnels below._

_The tunnel she found herself in was deserted but for an old man in army fatigues. She eyed him warily, but he only turned away. Keeping him in her sight, she checked the schedule and saw a train was due to arrive soon. Good. If she got on a train, the trail of her scent would be lost. The game would be over._

_Reading the maps carefully while she waited, she tried to calm the chaos of her thoughts and make a plan. Where to go? _

_Someplace public. Someplace busy. Someplace that would be open at this time of night. She noticed one of the subway stops was next to the bus terminal. Perfect. _

_On the train, she didn't think, simply watched the stops. She made the transfer to the next train, and soon, she was there. There was much more activity at this station, young people out and about, drifters spending the night in the relative warmth, nefarious types conducting business under the cover of dark. Buffy could feel their eyes on her, curious, calculating, but nobody bothered her. She dashed up the steps and into the nearby bus terminal building._

_She breathed a sigh of relief once inside. It was busy, considering the hour, but not bustling. Head held high, she marched to a bank of payphones and made a collect call._

_"Hello? Buffy?" a cultured, English voice asked after accepting the call._

_"Oh, thank god you're there. Giles!"_

_"Buffy, where are you? Is something wrong?"_

_"I need to come home"._

_"Yes, your mother said you would be home tomorrow night, she's planning to retrieve you from the airport"._

_"Um, change of plans"._

_"Has something occurred? Your mother said Spike was sending you home, , that he'd been behaving like a gentleman, which, I must admit is a ludicrous notion, but she insisted -"_

_"Please, Giles. Just – Just listen, okay? I'm at the bus terminal in NYC. Near, um, Times Square. But I don't have any money. Or ID. Or… or clothes?"_

_The sound of glasses being yanked off of a head came through loud and clear. "Dear god, do you mean to say that you are… naked?"_

_"Oh, no, whoops. No, I have a dress. But no shoes or coat. And the dress isn't exactly travel wear. Or much of anything wear"._

_"I see"._

_"Yeah, so I was hoping maybe you could get my mom to Western Union some money to the bus station, and then I could use it to buy a ticket and some clothes"._

_"I presume you would rather fly home than take the bus, my dear. I believe that would be a better alternative"._

_"Except the bus people don't care that I'm some crazy person with no ID. Airline ticket agents tend to frown on that kind of thing"._

_A sigh. "Of course. I shall go to your house and collect your passport and some clothing. I'll have your mother choose it, no fear. Listen carefully to me Buffy. Are you in any kind of danger?"_

_"I… I don't think so. I don't think he – anybody dangerous is here. And there are lots of people and bright lights"._

_"Very good. Then, please, remain where you are. I shall be there as soon as humanly possible"._

_"Giles?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"Thank you. You're the best Watcher ever"._

_"I'm sure that I am. I'm simply relieved that you're safe and sound"._

_"I am. And, Giles?"_

_"Yes, Buffy?"_

_"Can you… can you not tell anyone yet? Except Mom? I'm not ready to deal with all the concern and care. I just want to, you know, have a chance to catch my breath first"._

_"I understand. Xander and Willow can be somewhat overwhelming at times. I shall see you soon"._

And now it was several hours later and she was washing her face, trying to calm her restlessness.

If Spike really wanted to find her, the advent of daylight would be no obstacle to him. She had to believe he wouldn't think to look for her here. In a city this large and populated, even he couldn't find her that easily.

Her mind shied away from thinking of him. Thinking of him meant thinking of what had happened and there was no way she was going there.

She finally gave up on trying to make herself look presentable and wandered over to the little magazine and concession shop that had opened up. Fingering the money her guardian angel had given her, she looked over the offerings and chose a bagel with cream cheese and lox, and coffee. Hey, still in NYC, right?

She debated between the coffee and a magazine, not having money for both, but she decided staying alert was more important. She could probably find some abandoned newspaper now that she felt comfortable enough to walk around the station.

An hour or two later she was curled up in her corner seat once more, reading a _People_ magazine somebody had left behind. A shadow fell over her and she looked up. An ostentatiously dressed middle-aged man loomed over her, giving her an appraising look. Buffy waited for him to speak.

"Hey, sweetheart, you need a place to stay? Someplace safe? I could take care of you if you like. The life's been treating you rough, I see. No need to work it anymore".

Her mouth dropped open. Did he think she was a prostitute? As frostily as she could manage, she responded with a, "No, thank you, I'm quite fine". When he didn't leave, she gave him a pointed glare.

"Bitch," he muttered, and walked away. Well. Not all people were filled with the milk of human kindness, but at least he had left her alone. Buffy had feared a reprise of that time with the bikers.

Being weak around supernatural creatures was bad enough, but knowing that she was vulnerable to _human_ scumbags as well really sucked. If only Spike hadn't… her mind froze, and then she thought viciously _If only that bastard hadn't drugged me I could have killed him and stopped this ridiculous mess before it even started_._ He'd better not ever come near me again._

She dropped the magazine and stalked around furiously. Now that she'd gone there, her mind wouldn't let go.

_He used me. Tricked me. It was all just a game to get into my pants, to get me to ask him, beg him to take me to bed. Just like he said. Just like he told Angel he wanted. The sick fuck. He was going to kill me all along. And I fell for it._

_Again._

A sob burst out of her and she ran outside, away from the curious eyes, and into the sunny street. She gazed wildly up and down the street, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the accusations inside her own head. _Stupid girl. Worthless girl. Worthless Slayer._

Head bowed, she returned inside to wait.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Notes:**

And now we begin to reintegrate with canon. So when I forget to mention it, lines of dialogue and plots go to the appropriate writers. Because I didn't invent Buffy the Vampire Slayer, this guy named Joss Whedon did.

The dialogue feels way clunky to me in this chapter (too much exposition), but I'm tired of looking at it, so you get it now.

* * *

Hours later, just as her stomach was beginning to rumble with hunger, Buffy saw Giles enter through the main doors. He stopped to look around for her, but she was already running toward him, completely dignity-free. She wrapped her arms around him and he let out a pained 'ooofff'.

"I suppose I should be relieved you haven't your regular levels of strength," he joked.

"Nope, I'm just perfect for hugging without crushing at the moment". Buffy grabbed onto the suitcase he was holding. "Clothes?" she asked hopefully.

"Indeed". He looked her over critically. "I have a return flight booked in three hours. It should be enough time to get you patched up". He touched the side of her neck, just next to the bite wound, and his face filled with cold fury. "Spike," he spat.

"Actually, Drusilla, but, hey, this one here is Spike's," she said lightly, pointing to the scar on the other side of her neck. "I'm like a vampire buffet or something".

"Buffy, I am very concerned. Your mother has insisted that Spike has become, well… I can't believe I'm saying this, but… good. And he no longer had plans to bring you to Drusilla and kill you. What happened?"

"I think she found us. Him. But, as for the rest of it… No. Spike is not good. He… he fooled me into thinking he'd changed. He hasn't. End of story".

Giles opened his mouth to question her further, but Buffy cut him off. "Look, I'll tell all. At home, where I don't have to repeat it again". _After I can think about it and leave out certain parts._ "But for now, can we not talk about it? Please? I could really use a shower".

"Of course. What was I thinking? Come, we can probably find a YMCA or a gym where you can shower and change". He led the way out of the bus station.

After a shower at a nearby YMCA, Buffy went through the bag her mother had packed. Thank goodness for mothers. She'd thought of everything, from a razor to deodorant to tampons. She'd packed Buffy's favorite jeans and her comfiest undergarments. Yup, moms were the best.

Sitting on a bench in the gym area, Giles was cleaning and bandaging her wound while Buffy hissed in pain.

"I so can't wait till I'm all Girl-power again," she said. "I hate this".

"How did Spike even know about the Cruciamentum drugs?" Giles inquired.

"Demon community is a bunch of gossips. Word spreads". She fixed him with a glare. "Which, there wouldn't have been any gossip if not for you".

He was contrite. "Ah, yes, I do believe I've apologized for that, but again, I am deeply sorry".

She gave him a forgiving smile. "I know. I just like to hear you say it".

"All done". He put the supplies back in her suitcase. "Is there anything else you need to do before we leave?"

"No! I just want to get the hell out of Dodge. Get home and pretend this was all a bad dream".

_A horrid, horrid nightmare._

* * *

To Buffy's relief, nobody but her mom was waiting when she got off the plane. She flung herself into her mom's waiting arms, both of them sobbing.

Joyce turned to Giles. "Thank you so much for getting my baby girl. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it".

"Yeah, thanks again Giles," Buffy added.

Giles was embarrassed. "Oh, well, it was my pleasure. It's wonderful to have you back, Buffy, safe and sound and in one piece".

_Except my heart,_ she thought, but there was no way he needed to know that.

"Let's have a Scooby meeting tomorrow night," she said instead. "I'll be full disclosure girl then".

"Of course. Good night".

Joyce took Buffy's hand and led her out.

They were both silent on the car ride home. After her daughter had settled in and gotten herself situated, she sat down next to her at the kitchen table, a plate of cookies between them.

"Do you want to tell me what happened, Buffy?"

"No?" She crumbled her cookie into little bits. "Yes…"

"I just don't understand. You were so happy when you called yesterday morning. And then Mr. Giles came over last night, and… what happened?"

"I don't know Mom," she wailed. "Everything was wonderful. Well, not wonderful, we still had some bad moments, but… compared to before. He was…" She looked at her mom with tear-filled eyes. "I'd really started to like him. If he'd been human… I could have fallen in love with him. If I had let myself. I could have. Why don't I learn? Stupid Buffy". She banged her head on the table. "Third time's a charm, right?"

"Third time?"

"Well, Angel. And then, you know, Parker. Or… I guess you don't know".

Oops. But, she really needed to talk to somebody, and no matter what, her mom was her mom. She was the only one who knew just what had been happening with Spike on their 'vacation'. She would understand the sense of betrayal Buffy was experiencing.

"Parker?" her mom prompted.

"Stupid git," Buffy said, not even realizing what she'd uttered. "Played the sensitive type and… I fell for it," she mumbled, cheeks turning bright red. "He wasn't interested in me after that".

"Oh honey. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts".

"Well, one good thing about this mess, that one doesn't hurt so much anymore. So, yeah, and Spike makes three".

Her mother tried to hide her shock. "You and Spike…?"

She shook her head. "But I would have. Was going to. Except Drusilla was there. Lucky for me I guess," she added with a mirthless laugh. "One look at his crazy ho-bag vampire lover and it was like he flipped a switch. Totally reverted to Evil Spike. And so I'm thinking, it was all just an act, because he told me, at the beginning, that that was what he wanted. To get me to… you know. Willingly. Said he wanted to do it to get back at Angel".

She laid her head down on her arms on the table. "And I fell for it. Thought he'd changed. Instead, he just wanted – to… to play with me – before he killed me. And then when Drusilla showed up I guess he decided to skip that part. I'm not even worth that much".

Her mother was trying to understand. "So… he brought you to Drusilla after all?"

"No, I think she found him. But it doesn't make any difference. Soon as she was there, I became their latest meal and nothing more. Well," she amended, "game and meal. First they were gonna toy with me. Hunt me. I think".

"Buffy… I… it's so hard to believe. That he could fool you so completely".

"Hey, that's what psychopaths do, right? Neighbors always talk about how wonderful their serial killer neighbors were". She began to crumble another cookie.

"Don't get mad at me for asking this, but, do you think there is a chance that you're mistaken? I'm sure it was a very traumatic experience, and maybe you misinterpreted his intentions," Joyce said. Buffy rolled her eyes. Her mom was always trying to see the best side of things.

_But still_…

"He – he did tell me to run. I thought it was because they wanted to chase me, have a bit of sport, but really… he should have been able to catch me without a problem. And he didn't. So maybe he really meant it". She blew out a tortured breath. "Or, you know, maybe he said 'Yum'. Things were kind of confusing at the time".

Joyce got up and put her arms around her daughter. "Come on sweetheart. Why don't you get to bed? Tomorrow is another day and things will hopefully be clearer".

"Mmm," Buffy agreed sleepily. "Do me a favor, though. I'm going to have Willow do a de-invite spell. Don't let him back in. If he shows up here. I can't ever take the chance of trusting him again".

* * *

When the phone rang over and over late the next morning, Buffy eventually dragged herself out of bed to answer. Her mother must have been out. As soon as she picked up the receiver and muttered, "Hello?" she heard Angel's voice on the other end.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed. "Giles called me and said you were home safe but I couldn't believe it until I talked to you myself!"

At Buffy's lack of answer, he asked, "You are ok, aren't you?"

She yawned loudly in response. "Y-yes. I'm not all the way awake yet. And you're way too chipper. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I guess I was too excited. What happened? I'd asked him to keep me updated, but Giles didn't say anything other than you were home now. Did Spike let you go?"

"Yes. No. Uh… I'm not sure". Another yawn. "Maybe I can call you later?"

She was so not ready to talk to Angel yet. Part of her wasn't sure what to tell him. She didn't want him to know just how close she and Spike had gotten after all her vehement denials that she would never let Spike touch her. But a bigger part of her wasn't sure where she and Angel stood. Some uncomfortable truths had come to light and she didn't know how to process them.

"Never mind that. I'll come to Sunnydale. Tonight. I'll be there after dark".

_Drat_. "No, there's no need, I'm sure you're busy".

"Absolutely nothing on our plate right now. Besides, Buffy, you know I would drop it all for you anyhow". _Right. Like you dropped everything when you ran away to L.A._

She didn't want to see him alone. Too much too soon. "We're going to have a Scooby meeting tonight. At Giles'. Maybe you could come. Then I won't have to repeat everything to you later".

Angel gave a disappointed, "Fine. I'll see you there then," and they hung up.

Fully awake now, Buffy wandered desultorily through the house, touching things absent-mindedly. It was a strange feeling. Everything was the same as when she had left it, but she was not the same at all, and now the familiar objects of her home seemed strange and out of place. As if this life wasn't quite real.

She trudged back upstairs and attempted to ignore the feeling until it went away but it was no use, so she picked up the suitcase Giles had brought her and set to unpacking it. The vast majority of items were the toiletries her mom had packed, and after she'd relocated them to her bathroom, she decided to shower and leave the rest of the unpacking until after.

Still not feeling better, she puttered around until she couldn't put it off any longer. She put away the few extra clothes her mom had sent, set aside the kind woman's sweater and boots to take to Goodwill, and stared at the last item wadded in the bottom.

The sparkly little dress.

It was a very cute dress. But there was no way she was ever going to wear it again. She didn't even want to touch it. She wasn't sure why it had ended up in the suitcase instead of the garbage at the 'Y', other than that she'd been operating on autopilot and hadn't considered her actions.

With a sigh, Buffy gingerly picked it up with the tips of her fingers and carried it out to the back yard. There, she doused the dress with lighter fluid and set it on fire, watching the smoke curl into the still air. The smell of burning synthetic fabric was horrific, but she let it burn until the very end, imagining the dress was actually Spike going up in flames. It didn't make her feel any better, but she pretended it did.

Then she went inside and rummaged in the fridge, trying to care what she ate.

* * *

Buffy started down the steps to make the walk to Giles', but then she turned around and poked her head back inside. "Mom? Do you think you could drive me?"

When her mom came out of the kitchen with a surprised look, she added sheepishly, "I'm still… you know, normal. In other words, vampire bait. Probably not a good idea for me to go walking through town after dark with as many enemies as I have out there".

"Good idea honey. Let me get my keys".

Soon she was standing in front of Giles' door, taking deep breaths and trying to steel herself to go in. _You can do this_, she told herself. These were her friends. Nothing bad was going to happen. She pushed open the door and saw all their faces turn to her. Xander. Willow. Oz. Giles. And Angel. Great, Angel was already there. Oh look, and Cordy too. Fun.

"Hey guys. I'm back!"

Each of the gang looked at her hesitantly, and then Xander was up and across the room, enfolding Buffy in his arms. "Buffster. God. I'm so glad you're okay".

She looked up at him. "You too. Any damage?"

"Nah. Ribs got bruised, had a shiner for awhile, but that's nothing for around here". She chuckled.

Willow was right next to her, waiting, and it quickly became a group hug. "I tried," she apologized. "I tried to find you with a spell but it just didn't work. I'm not good enough -".

Buffy cut her off. "I don't think there was anything you could have done. And hey, it's all worked out, so don't worry about it".

"I'm fine, by the way," Cordelia called out from her spot on the couch. "I almost died. Kind of like the last time Spike showed his face. Please tell me you killed him".

Buffy moved to her. "No such luck. What happened?"

She turned and showed off her scar. "Call us the scar twins. Especially since I can't afford plastic surgery right now. It sucks to be poor".

"Amen," Oz agreed.

Buffy could feel Angel's eyes on her the entire time, but she steadfastly ignored him until she couldn't any longer without being obviously rude. She looked at him uneasily. "Angel".

He took a step towards her and then paused, sensing her discomfort. "I'm glad you're okay," she told him.

"We found him only about an hour after you left. Our locator spell worked just fine once the wards were gone," Cordelia informed her condescendingly.

Angel's eyes remained fixed on her, and Buffy knew he was using all his senses to check her out. Creepy.

"So, um, what'd I miss while I was gone?" she asked to break the tension.

Xander spoke up. "I had this really cool job at the Bronze. Bar man. It only lasted a week though. Kind of went to hell when I freaked out over the bespelled beer the owner was serving up. 'Course those meatheads totally deserved turning into cavemen, but…"

At Buffy's raised eyebrow, Willow added. "Yeah. And there was this big fire and I was trapped with the cavemen, but I saved them all. With magic. I put the fire out. Oh, and I saved Parker too". Buffy gave a tiny frown, but otherwise didn't react to his name.

"The week before that we met the world's tiniest demon," Oz contributed. "Made me feel like a giant".

"Heh, yes, that was rather amusing," Giles chortled. When the others looked at him he said. "Well. After the fact. I suppose it was quite frightening at the time".

"He was so tiny and cute," Xander proclaimed. "Until Oz here stepped on him and squished him".

"Me giant. Me squish," Oz shrugged laconically.

"He was a fear demon," Willow added. "Appropriate, really, considering it was a Halloween party. All the props came to life and we each started experiencing our deepest fears".

"You know, this walk down memory lane is fun and all. For those of us who actually care. But I want to know what happened to Buffy. It's the only reason I'm here. That and to make sure Angel returns to L.A. tonight. We have an important client to meet in the morning". Xander rolled his eyes at Cordelia. "What? You're wasting my time".

"Yes, Buffy, I must admit I'm quite anxious to hear what occurred with Spike," Giles added.

"We know bits of it thanks to Angel here, but I want to know how much I need to kick Spike's ass. He's really got it coming. Kidnapping and drugging my best friend". Xander shook his head in anger. "Getting so so tired of that guy".

Buffy rubbed her arms and tried to find the words to start. She'd carefully considered what she wanted to say, but faced with the reality of it, all her words left her. She perched forlornly on the arm of the couch, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to begin the tale she really didn't want to share.

Watching her friend carefully, Willow saw how Buffy was struggling and began the story for her, "So, we know Spike found the ring, and then you fought on campus. Xander was there, but he got knocked out before the end".

"Right," Buffy continued gratefully. "I… I almost had the ring off of him, but somehow he knocked me out too. And when I came to…" _he was jerking off over me. Um, skip that part…_ "I was tied up and in L.A. He drugged me then. And he must have bit me – I was missing a big chunk out of my neck – but obviously he didn't kill me. He… he told me he wanted to, um, feed me to Drusilla. As a make-up present. She'd left him again".

"And I thought those crazy kids had eyes for nothing but each other," Xander cut in.

"Yeah. So. He kept me tied up, but he kept flipping back and forth between Evil Spike and… sort of decent Spike. He even let me take a shower…" _with him…_ "and then, before he could tie me back up, I attacked him. With a knife. In the eye".

"Ewwww. I mean, uh, go Buffy!" Willow said supportively.

"It was pointless," Buffy continued. "With the ring he healed right back up. No damage whatsoever. And – and then he got mad".

"Did he hurt you?" Angel growled.

_So too late to be worried about that_. "No. Not like you'd think. That's when we went to your office".

"And I almost died. Don't forget that," Cordelia reminded her.

"Yeah, well. I was kinda unconscious again by that point. Totally missed it. My bad. Anyhow, I'm sure Angel's told you what happened next".

"Mmm. Some. Why don't you tell us what you remember," Giles said.

Rubbing her arms again, Buffy said, "Well… Spike kept us tied up. He wanted to…" She exchanged a look with Angel, who gave a slight shake of his head. Oh good, he hadn't told them about the nakedness. "He wanted to torture Angel. Get some anger out. I guess he blamed Angel and me for Dru leaving him".

"But he didn't torture you as well? Only Angel?" Giles asked.

Buffy squirmed. "Not exactly. He… he wasn't nice. Said a lot of cruel things. Threatened to hurt me a whole bunch. But he never really did".

"So what changed?" Willow asked. "I mean, he left Angel alive and just took off with you".

"He got bored," Angel interjected. "He's like that. Can't stick to a plan".

"These young vampires. They just don't have the stick-to-it-ness you find in the older generation," Xander said. "And a good thing it is, I might add. For you".

"Right. So we started driving across the country. He told me Dru was on the east coast. But as the week went on…" she shrugged helplessly. "He started to change. He told me he didn't want to be evil so much and that he wanted to stop killing. Stop being the Big Bad. And he did".

Her friends looked at her in disbelief and she looked back helplessly. She couldn't blame them. "I know it sounds crazy. I would have never believed it otherwise if I hadn't been right there with him. It… I don't think it was a permanent change. In fact, now, I'm pretty sure it was just a game he was playing. But he still did it. He was kind, and funny, and he – at the end – took really good care of me. And he wasn't killing". _I think_.

Nobody said anything, so she went on. "There were a couple of times he even saved me. Like – one day. He didn't tie me up as well as he usually did. I managed to get the Gem of Amarra off him without him waking up, and then I hopped out of there. I made it out to the parking lot, out to the sun. But then…" She shivered violently in recollection. "There were these men. Awful, horrible men. They saw me tied up and trying to escape, and they decided it would be fun to make me their prisoner instead. And to…" she trailed off, unable to say it.

"To do bad, yucky things?" Willow asked sympathetically.

"Yeah. That. But Spike – even though he didn't have the ring and it was daylight, he saved me. After that he never tied me up again, and…"

"So, call me confused, but if you weren't tied up, why didn't you… I don't know, run away from him?" Xander asked.

Buffy gave a small, hollow laugh. This was the part she didn't know how to explain. "We… we made a deal. He wanted to take me on vacation, he said". At their incredulous looks she said, "I know. It sounds insane, but it made sense at the time. And, I don't know, I was grateful to him or something. For saving me. He was so different, I really thought…" she trailed off, her face devastated. Images of her fun-filled days with Spike flitted through her mind, bringing feelings of happiness with them. She couldn't reconcile those memories with the last time she'd seen him.

_It was all fake,_ she reminded herself. _Just a sick game._

"Oh! Oh! I know this!" Willow exclaimed suddenly. "Stockholm syndrome!" All eyes turned to her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Notes:** Let's see, I have dialogue from _Wild at Heart,_ written by Maxi Norton.

And to all of you who predicted Stockholm syndrome, you get great big 'smarty-pants' certificates. Willow's class notes are taken from Wikipedia (verbatim) and Buffy's book is from this website:

/lib/therapy/self-help/stockholm/

* * *

Giles cleared his throat. "I do believe you may be on to something, Willow".

"And I think I speak for the rest of us when I say, 'huh'?" Cordy said.

"We learned about it in psych class. While you were gone," Willow told Buffy apologetically. She rifled through her backpack and pulled out a notebook. "It says right here… oh, here it is: Stockholm syndrome is a paradoxical psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and have positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness".

They were all quiet, considering.

"But it wasn't just a lack of abuse! He really was kind. Not – not that I have any positive feelings for Spike. Or wish to defend him," Buffy added quickly.

"It would explain why you didn't try to escape, though," Willow offered.

Buffy seized on the idea gratefully. "I – I supposed that's it. It does make sense".

"And then Spike, what, told you you were free to go? Just like that?" Xander said with a frown.

"Uh… not so much. He did say he was going to put me on a plane. Tonight, in fact. I was supposed to come home tonight. He _was_ going to let me go, just like that, or so he said. But last night, Drusilla showed up, and I guess he had a change of heart. Or, maybe that had been the plan all along. I'm not sure".

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. "As soon as he saw her, he… transformed. Instantly. And I sound like a bad Slayer here, but… it was terrifying. Those Cruciamentum drugs still hadn't worn off, and I was trapped. Helpless. Between the two of them, they were so strong. They were… I don't know… like animals". She tried to recall just what had happened, but it was only a chaotic blur.

"They… they made me a Buffy buffet, and then, suddenly, Drusilla dropped me. Something about playing games with me first. Chasing me. For the fun of it. Spike looked at me and said, 'run'. Or maybe 'yum'," she added with a shaky laugh. "But I'm pretty sure it was run. And I did. I… I don't know if I was lucky to escape or if they never actually chased me, but I escaped".

There wasn't much else to say, was there? "And here I am," she finished lamely.

Realizing she was done, Willow touched her gently. "And I'm glad of it," she told her friend softly. The others followed suit, expressing in turn their gratitude and relief that she was home safe, even Cordelia saying something kind to her.

All except Angel.

He had been watching her intently, silently, the whole time. Buffy had the feeling he knew there was plenty she wasn't letting on. She didn't want anybody to know just _how_ positive her feelings for Spike had become. Would Stockholm syndrome explain _that_?

He drew her aside when she made to leave. "Let me walk you home," he said, his large body looming between her and the others. When did the bulk of his body change from feeling safe to imposing? _About the time a much slimmer, lither body became comforting..._

Buffy suppressed a sigh. She knew he had questions, knew he realized her story was full of gaping holes. She may as well get it over with. "Yeah, sure, let me just say goodbye".

Willow approached her. "Are you going to come back to the dorms tonight?"

"I think I'm going to stay home. Spend some quality time with Mom tomorrow before I have to go back to school on Monday". She groaned. "I'm going to be so far behind!"

"Don't worry, I have all your assignments. If you want, I can bring them over tomorrow and help you catch up?"

"And there goes my good moodiness about being home". As her friend started to apologize, Buffy cut her off. "So not your fault. Really. You're the best, Wills," she told the redhead.

"Hmm, yes, Buffy. I should mention – your professors believe you have been ill these last weeks. With mono," Giles added. "That's the story your mother gave them at my suggestion, to cover your absence. Your professors should be willing to work with you to make up your missed classes. Students contracting mono is quite common".

"Wonderful. Now everybody will be afraid to kiss me". Blushing furiously, she stuttered, "Not – not that I want to be kissing anybody. Um, come on Angel, time to go!"

Right, Angel.

She didn't want to kiss him either. Not when other kisses still burned on her lips. Not when she remembered the dark-haired vampire's shamed face back in the underground room, or the things Spike had said about him. She hoped he wouldn't expect a goodnight kiss. Too much to deal with.

When they were out the door and part way down the street, Angel put a hand on her arm and stopped her. "Buffy," he began. "I know there were things you weren't saying. I didn't tell them about Spike's… um… sexual obsession with you. I notice you didn't say anything either. I'm wondering what else you left out?"

His face was an expressionless mask. What did he expect to hear? "Nothing. Not much. Spike pretty much gave up on that idea once we left L.A.".

"So you didn't… you were never with him? He can be very persuasive. Very charming".

Indeed. Understatement, there.

"No". It wasn't a lie. Just because she almost did didn't mean he needed to know that. Besides… "Although, Angel, you know, if I did, I wouldn't tell you. It's not really your business anymore. You made that choice for me when you left Sunnydale, remember?"

"I – I was just concerned. And he didn't… _force_ you at all either?"

"No," she laughed mirthlessly. "He was a perfect gentleman. Well… you know, for Spike".

They walked in silence for awhile. "And you? You're all healed?" Buffy asked.

"Good as new".

"Good. That's good". The silence stretched on. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. The memory of the last time they'd seen each other stood between them.

She tried again. "So… big client meeting tomorrow, huh?"

"That's just Cordelia. She's hoping for a paying customer. She feels we should be receiving payment in exchange for risking our lives".

"I don't. I do it because it's my duty. And I get to die young for it too".

Angel had nothing to say to that.

Soon they were standing on her doorstep, both of them shifting uneasily.

"Soooo… I'll give you a call, okay?" he tried.

"Yeah. That would be good," she replied. Angel reached out to her, but before his hand touched hers he abruptly turned and walked away.

_No need to worry about that kiss after all_.

* * *

Buffy reintegrated into her old life without as much effort as she had thought it would take. Memories of her time with Spike took on the surreal aspect of a particularly vivid dream. One that had seemed real, but couldn't have possibly been.

She spent the beginning of the week waiting to recover her full powers, and using the time she would normally patrol to try to catch up on homework. By the time she learned about Veruca and Oz, she was back to full strength. Which was of the very good. Dealing with werewolves wasn't for the weak.

Her returned powers, however, were useless in the face of Willow's despair. On the plus side, at least Willow's crisis made everyone forget about hers. All the worry and careful treatment was transferred to her best friend, leaving Buffy free from scrutiny.

And more good news, her time with Spike hadn't been a complete waste. Stockholm syndrome was one of the potential paper topics Professor Walsh had assigned. Buffy would be whipping that paper out in no time.

What she was learning while researching terrified her though. As she read, she came to the conclusion that she was definitely suffering from the syndrome.

Consider what she was reading now – that Stockholm syndrome developed under certain circumstances, each of which fit her.

"Condition number one," she read. "The presence of a perceived threat to one's physical or psychological survival and the belief that the abuser will carry out the threat". _ Full belief in his plans to rape, torture and kill. Check. Next?_

"The presence of a perceived small kindness from the abuser to the victim". _Bath. Nice food. Nice hotel. Leaving me free, caring for my injuries, taking me on 'vacation'. Yep, kindness, check._

She read on. "Isolation from perspectives other than those of the abuser". _Does a whole week with nobody to talk to but my kidnapper count?_

And last, "The perceived inability to escape the situation"._ Well, duh. I ran, he captured me. Over and over. At least at first..._

Then she read the list of symptoms. "Positive feelings by the victim toward the controller, negative ones toward friends and family trying to help them". She shame-facedly remembered not wanting her friends to know. Not wanting to deal with them. "Inability to engage in behaviors that may result in their release". _ No contest there_.

There was more. Buffy put the book down. She'd read enough for now.

So there it was. The feelings that lingered for Spike were excusable, false emotions created by trauma. She wasn't sick or insane after all. Or, well, maybe she was, but at least she had a good reason. Too bad the article didn't say what to do about it other than to seek counseling.

Buffy had always found a good patrol to be better than counseling. The rest of the week, she patrolled with a vengeance.

When Professor Walsh handed her paper back at the end of the week, she said, "Ms. Summers. I want you to prepare to lead a discussion group next class. On the paper topic. That was smart work".

Buffy was gratified. She had worked hard, really gotten into it. "What do I have to do?"

"If you have any questions, bring them up with one of the T.A.s".

She had to laugh when, after showing Willow her paper and telling her what Walsh's request had been, Willow confessed to being jealous.

"You're jealous I have more work to do? You're even crazier than I am".

"Eh, you're not crazy. Just a little confused. At least you understand what happened, right?"

"Yeah. It's good to understand".

But Buffy still didn't understand. The feelings she had for Spike, both good and bad, whirled and swirled through her head, leaving her more confused than ever.

Especially after she went home that weekend and saw her mail.

A large manila envelope with faintly familiar handwriting was tucked in amongst the clothing catalogs and various junk mail her mother saved for her.

Curious, she dropped her things and opened it right away. The words jumped out at her, written in the elegant script she'd admired only days ago.

"I love you,  
Not only for what you are,  
But for what I am  
When I am with you…"

Buffy gasped, horrified, and let the pages fall to the ground. She stood trembling, shaken. Was this another game? Did he intend to remind her of what a naïve fool she'd been to fall for his act? Was he _gloating_?

She spied a smaller piece of paper that had floated to the ground as well. From where she stood, she could see it was covered in smudges and furiously crossed out scribbles. She hesitantly picked it up.

_Dear Buffy,_

_I'm sorry I failed you. I know I said I'd never hurt you again, but I did. I only lost control of myself briefly, but you must know that I wouldn't have let you die. I stopped Drusilla from killing you. And you were able to get away. I can only hope that those small actions are enough to keep you from damning me to the hell where I belong. It is too much to hope that you might forgive me once more._

_I want you to know that I'm still trying, though. To be a man and not a monster. It is so very hard, especially now when I have no hope of ever earning your approval, but I still try. To be somebody you could accept. Everything I've told you still holds true. You've changed me forever._

It was unsigned, but of course it didn't need a signature. She sat heavily on the kitchen chair and re-read it over and over, trying to make sense of this new information.

Her mother called from upstairs, "Buffy? Did I hear you come in?" A few moments later she entered the kitchen and took in her daughter's tear-streaked face with a frown. Buffy silently handed the letter and the poem over to her mother to read.

Joyce's hand stole to her mouth, and by the time she finished reading she was crying as well.

* * *

After patrol, Buffy stopped by Giles' house. She hemmed and hawed for awhile, but finally asked her question.

"Giles, what if… what if I was confused. Or wrong, even. About Spike. What if he really was trying to change, but he messed up that night with Drusilla? Just briefly?"

Giles looked at her with concern. "Do you mean to say that you don't believe Spike's behavior with you was simply an act? Do you wish me to consider that he could have truly been interested in redemption?"

"Redemption? Yeah, I guess so. Redemption," she repeated. "Could he?"

He gave a weary sigh and searched through the objects piled on his desk. "Buffy, my dear, there's something I need to show you. It's a newspaper I picked up before we left New York".

He handed it to her, the folded headline _Slaughter in Central –_ clearly visible. "I didn't show this to you at the time, because I didn't wish to add to your concerns. However, you ask me if I believe Spike could be interested in redemption, and I have to tell you the truth. He is a soulless, evil killer, Buffy, and without a soul, that is all he will ever be capable of being. Even if he did acquire a soul like Angel, it is no guarantee that he would use it wisely".

He paused, considered her face, and continued more gently. "Spike is a notoriously vicious vampire. Not like Angelus was – Spike prefers mass scale slaughter over the type of chillingly cold-blooded murder that Angelus was famous for. It seems to me that his love of violence must be an innate trait carried over from his human personality. One not likely to be overcome".

Buffy shook her head at that. No. William hadn't been a thug. He'd been a gentleman. An exceedingly mild-mannered gentleman if he had been telling the truth.

But that was the catch, wasn't it? If Spike had been telling the truth.

Giles took the newspaper from her hands and unfolded it so that she could read the article. "He told you he wasn't killing. I'm afraid he was lying to you. This occurred the night before you called me".

She took the paper back with trembling hands. The night before she had called… the night Spike had gone out.

_Where are you going?_

_Out. Get pissed. Find a spot of violence. I don't know. _

_The smell of blood when he had returned._

_Just needed a good brawl. _

_No innocents died tonight._

But someone had died. People that he thought had deserved it? She began to read:

_Slaughter in Central Park. _

_Last night Cecille Garvin, 23, was accosted after dark in Central Park by a large group of teenage males sporting various weapons. Reports suggest the young men were members of a gang. The assailants attacked Miss Garvin with the intention of sexually assaulting her. According to Miss Garvin, the assault was suddenly arrested by the arrival of another man with a long black leather coat and bleached blond hair. _

_Says Miss Garvin, "At first I was relieved. Because I thought he'd saved me, you know? But then… he didn't just stop the men. He killed them. Tore them apart. Literally. And there was something wrong with his face. I screamed and ran away, 'cause I thought he was going to kill me too. If he was saving me, I almost wish he wouldn't have. They were just stupid young boys. The way they died… it was horrible. Nobody deserves that. Even despite what they were going to do to me, they still didn't deserve that"._

_If you have any information regarding a man who fits this description, police are asking…_

She dropped the paper on Giles' desk and drifted out the door without a word. "Buffy?" he called, concerned, hurrying to catch her.

"I'm fine. Just ready to go to bed," she answered distractedly and continued on her way.

She wandered home, to the safety of her bedroom, where she had tucked away the poem and his letter.

She pulled them out and studied them.

_I'm still trying, though. To be a man and not a monster._

_No innocents died tonight._

_I won't kill. Unless they really deserve it._

_I didn't care that you killed them, Spike._

_The way they died… it was horrible. Nobody deserves that. Even despite what they were going to do to me, they still didn't deserve that._

_I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good._

_I'm still trying._

Buffy lay down and wept.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Notes:**

Bits of dialogue are taken from 'The Initiative' written by James Conter. Since we're reintegrating with canon, go ahead and assume that if it happened on your TV screen, it still happens in this universe - with whatever minor modifications we need to make it work (unless it directly contradicts my storyline, obviously). I can't rewrite every single scene or I'll never get done! www. Buffyworld .com is an excellent source for transcripts and shooting scripts, both of which I rely on heavily.

* * *

The next morning, Buffy got on the internet and searched the newspapers of the towns she and Spike had passed through for stories of unusual killings or disappearances. It would have been much faster to ask Willow, but she wanted to keep it to herself.

She recalled one of the facts about Stockholm syndrome. 'Victims often attempt to cover up or explain away the behavior of their captors'.

Crap. Well, if she actually found anything, she'd make sure she told somebody, not cover it up. Giles at least. She knew she had to break whatever hold Spike had created over her.

The search proved futile, except for the story Giles had already shown her. She breathed a small sigh of relief. At least Spike hadn't been lying.

_I'm still trying._

But what did that mean to him? Spike had killed those gang members violently. Those young boys. Sure, they weren't innocents, but she couldn't condone their brutal deaths.

Except she had.

_I didn't care that you killed them_.

It was what she had said to him at that motel in Nebraska. When it had been her life on the line, she'd more or less told him she'd approved of his actions.

On a hunch, she decided to check the New York Times for the days after she had left. And there it was. 'Slaughter continues'. 'Police beg vigilante to stop'. Then nothing more. Did it mean he had quit the carnage? Moved on to more subtle kills? Or simply moved on, out of town?

She turned off the computer. It didn't matter. She'd seen enough.

Giles thought that Spike was nothing but a brutal killer, with no possibility of redemption.

Buffy didn't know what to believe.

"So how's Willow doing? Really?" Xander asked as they patrolled together. "She tells me she's fine, but I get the impression she's not as happy as she's vaguely pretending to be".

"You mean she hasn't been letting on about the black hole of despair she's been living in since Oz left? She's dealing. I'm helping. It's hard. Willow needs some cheering up. Ergo, party tomorrow night."

"Well, I hope that works. And what about you? We haven't talked much about… you know, Spike".

Buffy gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, really. I did that paper, and it was homework and therapy all rolled into one. With an 'A+' cherry right on top".

* * *

The following day found her cajoling Willow. "Come on Wills! It'll take your mind off things, at least. And, you know, you can dress slutty, which is always a sure mood booster".

"I don't know. I prefer warm and fuzzy at the moment. Comforting, see?"

"Fine. Wear comforting. I'm going with slutty. Walk to my house with me, I think I left the shirt I want at home".

"I'm sorry I've been depresso-girl," Willow said as they walked. "It's just… you know. And I know I haven't been a very good friend. You have your own trauma to deal with and I've been totally ignoring you".

"Your trauma way trumps my trauma. Oz leaving like that is way more harrowing than anything that bleached moron dealt out".

"Still. I want you know that I care. If you have anything you need to tell me…" she offered sincerely.

As they approached Revello Drive, Buffy began to feel like somebody was watching her. She twisted around, but not seeing anything, faced forward once more, frowning.

"What is it?" her friend asked.

"It's… I don't know. I swear it's the same feeling I get when a vampire is nearby, but it's daylight…" She trailed off, wild-eyed.

"Mom!" she cried, and sprinted past the last few houses, Willow close behind. "Mom!" she yelled again as she burst into the house.

"Honey, what is it?" her mother asked as she came around the corner.

"Just – oh. Oh no". Her eyes fell on a large box that sat in the middle of the living room. Perched on it was a giant blue bear. The kind she'd last seen in the back of Spike's car. "MOM! Did you let him in?"

"Let who in?" She followed her daughter's line of vision. "That was on the front step when I went out there a moment ago. With a note that said 'For Buffy'. I just brought it in. Why?"

"Spike," she said faintly. "Spike must have been here".

"It's a good thing we did that spell already," Willow squeaked.

"Yeah. I guess… um… I guess I'll take it upstairs". Her legs trembled as she walked to the items and picked them up. The stuffed bear exuded the scent of Spike's cigarettes, and she couldn't keep herself from inhaling deeply as she held it. She could have sworn a faint trace of cotton candy smell lingered underneath the smoky odor.

Willow followed behind and immediately opened the large cardboard box as soon as Buffy set it down. "What is all this?" she asked curiously as she began pulling clothing out.

"Looks like my clothes and things. The ones I left behind when I… ran. I suppose Spike thought I might want them". She didn't make a move towards the box though. Not until Willow pulled out a small blue bag bearing a Cedar Point logo.

"Ah. That's just garbage," she said quickly, grabbing it from her friend and tossing it onto her desk. "In fact, I think I'll go through it later. Why don't you look in my closet and see if there's something you want to wear to the party tonight?" She didn't want Willow finding anything else embarrassing.

"Buffy," Willow said sharply. "What's wrong? There's something you're not telling me".

"Whew, this room is hot. Are you hot? I'm just gonna open my window".

Buffy turned back to see the redhead in resolve face. "Tell me. I know I've been a poophead, but you're my best friend. You shouldn't have to keep things to yourself".

The Slayer sighed, and her shoulders slumped. "You'd better sit down then," she said as she sat too. Willow faced her expectantly. "Um. I didn't know how to tell anybody this. Because it's really embarrassing. Bad enough I got all Stockholm syndromy and didn't run away when I could have. But it's worse".

"Worse? Worse how? Ooooh," Willow said in realization. "Buffy. Did you… _fall in love with him?_" she whispered.

"Fall in love?" Buffy repeated in panic. "No! No! But…" she continued sheepishly, "I could have. I sort of wanted to. I didn't make a big deal about it before, but Willow, you don't know how much he changed. He was _amazing_. I mean, like perfect boyfriend material. And it's tearing me up to think that it was all just an act. That I was that stupid to fall for it".

"But it had to be an act. Right? I mean, didn't you say he dropped it as soon as he saw Drusilla?"

Buffy had been rifling through the items in the box while Willow spoke. At the bottom she saw something that should have surprised her, but didn't. It was one of the poems he had recited for her, written in his looping elegant scrawl. Drawing it out of the box, she saw several more poems beneath. She turned to Willow.

"That's the thing Will. I don't know if it was an act. At least, not all of it. I, uh, left out a lot when I told you guys what happened. Listen".

And her friend did. Willow listened as Buffy told her everything. About the things he'd done and said while she'd been tied up in LA, even the things he'd said about Angel. The confessions he'd made to her in Tahoe, about contemplating giving up evil, and how they'd spent the day sunbathing on the balcony together like friends. She talked about him taking her past the Temple in Utah just because she'd mentioned it.

She described Spike saving her from the bikers. About how he had killed those men and she'd told him she didn't care. How he'd held her and she'd felt safe. The way he'd told her he wanted to protect her. Take her on vacation.

And then… the look on his face when they'd ridden the Ferris wheel. Buffy told her about the evening at the theater, how he'd turned into an old-fashioned gentleman. She showed Willow the playbill and pulled out the green dress and shoes she'd worn. She retrieved the blue amusement park souvenir bag from her desk and took out the photos. Told her about the way he'd won the bear for her. Saved her from the vampires later than night and crushed the remaining drugs under his heel.

Spike must have developed the photos from Niagara, because those were in the box too. They looked at Spike, grumbling in a blue poncho, water streaming down his face. The picture of both of them together, smiling happily. Buffy told her friend about all the deep discussions they'd had while driving. How he'd called her beautiful. About Spike bashfully reciting poetry to her and her growing attraction to him.

Willow heard about their stay at the Plaza, and how Spike had confessed that he might lose control and had left instead. Whispered 'I love you' when he'd returned. Begged for a crumb of affection. The way they slept together each night.

She heard about the fight concerning Nikki, the Slayer, and their day in the park. Buffy pulled out the poem Spike had hidden in the picnic basket. She listened with fascination about their trip up the Empire State Building. And the kiss.

"And then," Buffy confessed, "My brain short-circuited and all I wanted to do was go back to the hotel with him. I didn't think about it at all. I certainly didn't think about how he had told Angel he intended to get me to have sex with him willingly. I thought he, you know, really wanted me for me. That he had changed and… God, Willow. I asked him if I would regret it, and do you know what he said to me?"

"What?" she asked in wide-eyed wonder.

"He said that he would give me the most amazingly passionate night of my life and he would never ever give me cause to regret it. And I believed him. Just like I believed Parker," she moaned.

"Oh, Buffy. I don't know. You're right, how can he have been pretending all that time?" Willow asked softly. She touched her friend's arm. "So what happened then?"

Buffy finished the story. She described in far more detail than she'd shared with the others how Drusilla had been there and Spike had lost control. Turned predatory and seemed about to kill her. How she had suddenly been free and he had told her to run. Thinking it had to have been game to them.

"But that's not the end of the story," she added.

"It's not? I thought you didn't see him again after that".

"I didn't. See him. This came in the mail," she pointed to the poem Spike had sent. "Along with this," and she handed his letter to Willow. She picked up the giant bear and squeezed it to her, waiting for her friend's reaction.

"See," the redhead exclaimed after reading it, "you _were_ right. It wasn't all a game. Was it?" she asked perplexedly.

Buffy spoke over the blue bear's head. "Yeah, that's how I feel. Except, well, when Spike said he wasn't killing, it wasn't exactly true". And she told Willow about the murders in New York.

Her friend's face was horrified. "Oh no! But he really thought he wasn't doing anything wrong, I guess. Because they weren't innocent?"

"Right. And because I think I made him believe it was okay. By telling him I didn't care about those bikers".

"Wow. That's just… wow. I can't believe you've kept this all to yourself".

"I was dealing. And you weren't".

"I'll deal now. We'll deal together. It'll be better".

"Thanks Will. It does feel good to get it off my chest. I've been so… so angry at Spike. And myself. And worried, because I didn't know if I was wrong to still care. Deep down inside. But I want to kill him at the same time. Not like, 'oh I'm so angry I could kill him', or well, yeah, like that. Except I'd really kill him. Dust him. Because I can't trust him and it's my fault all those people have died".

"That's a lot of things to feel at once," Willow said sympathetically.

"I know. My head's been a mess. I thought it got cleared after that paper… until now". She picked up the photo of her and Spike on the Mean Streak, traced his face with her finger. "How can I ignore this?" She turned to the poems. "Or these? I just… I can't tell. I don't know what was real anymore". Buffy shuffled through the photos dejectedly as Willow watched her silently.

With a sigh she put them down, her face hardening and her tone sharp. "You know what? It doesn't matter what was real and what was an act. It wasn't right. What I thought I felt was wrong. I can't… It was… it's a disease. A syndrome. So I just need to let it go. I told Spike I'd be happy if he came back to Sunnydale. But now… now I'm going to kill him. If I see him, I have to kill him," she repeated resolutely, dropping the giant stuffed animal. "I should burn all these things. Like I did with the dress".

Willow looked at the clock. "You know what, why don't we wait on that. Sleep on it, and if you still feel the same way next weekend, we'll have a giant bonfire. Right now we have parties to distract us. Especially if you want to patrol first".

Buffy gave her a smile. "Yeah. Thanks, Willow. You're a good best friend".

She gave a little nod. "Yup. Best friend duties now fulfilled. So show me that slutty top you wanted".

Buffy went to her closet and pulled out two different tops. "Which one do you think?"

"I like the blue one. I bet Riley would like it too".

"Riley?" Buffy asked, a frown creasing her forehead. "Riley Finn? Our T.A.?"

"Uh-huh".

"And since when do we care what he would like me to wear?"

"Since he told me yesterday that he'd really like to ask you out but he's too shy to do it," Willow answered with a sly grin.

"Oh, Wills. I'm… I can't date anybody. I'm so messed up right now".

"So don't date him. Flirt. Look sexy. Enjoy a cute guy finding you desirable. A _normal_ cute guy. Without fangs. It'll be the pick-me-up you need. You insisted it would cheer me up - don't get all hypocritical on me".

"A cute normal guy, huh? Could be a nice change".

"Yeah. He seems really sweet. Sincere. I don't think he'd do anything slimy at all".

Buffy held the blue top up and examined her reflection in the mirror. "Well. I guess we'll see where the night takes us then".

* * *

Spike was following the Slayer as she patrolled. He'd dropped her things off at her house earlier, then just managed to nip out of the way before she saw him. He wasn't quite sure how she'd react to him and he wanted to observe her first. Suss out her mood. So he'd climbed the tree outside her bedroom and eavesdropped on her talking to her little red-headed friend.

Listening to Buffy pour her heart out, he'd wondered where spying rated on the evil scale. It was probably pretty far down, but still. Better to not get caught. Not after hearing what she thought of him. It took everything he had to keep from leaping through her open window and defending himself to her. Clearing up the misconceptions she obviously had.

Of course, if he'd attempted it, all that would have happened was him hitting the mystical barrier that surrounded her house and falling two stories down, to splat on the ground in an undignified heap. Followed by her leaping out the window and killing him.

So he'd held off. Maybe if he followed her, he'd find an opening. A way to approach her.

He trailed her while she patrolled, admiring the way she moved, reveling in the sight of her despite the pangs it caused in his chest. He couldn't quite believe what she'd told the witch. He'd felt hope at first, listening to her describe how she'd come to like him. Maybe even fallen in love with him a little. But then she'd described what she'd thought had happened with Drusilla.

It was mind-boggling. She thought he had been playing with her? That it had all been an act just to get her to shag him, and that he'd intended to kill her all along? He'd expected she'd be angry at him for losing control, for almost getting her killed again, but not this. This was…

This was searing pain. Abandonment. Betrayal. He'd shown her every part of him. Every poncy, pathetic, love-struck part of him that he'd ruthlessly suppressed for a hundred plus years. He'd bared his, well, not soul, but… bared himself to her. Changed for her. And she thought it was all just a game to him, that she meant nothing to him.

Bitch.

The more Spike reflected upon it, the angrier he got. Couldn't she see how he'd tried? Hadn't she promised not to abandon him? He didn't think he'd jumped back on the evil bandwagon.

Sure, there'd been a slight glitch when Dru had shown up. Just for a minute or two. But he'd recovered, made it right. Made it righter than she would ever know.

And he'd honestly thought saving those women was the right thing to do. She'd been happy enough when it was her. _Oh Spike, I don't mind when you kill people to save me, but if you do it for anybody else, it means you're an unredeemable evil murderer_ he mimicked her voice inside his head. What did the sodding woman expect of him? How was he supposed to figure that one out on his own?

He shook his head in bewilderment. And now she was talking about dating some other wanker. It was more than he could bloody well take. She was _his_. He just had to remind her of it. If he got her alone, showed her, she'd remember. She'd have to. Spike had had a taste of perfection with Buffy, and he damn well wasn't going to let it go.

From the vantage point in the tree he'd climbed, he watched her engage the vampire she'd found on patrol. She made a wisecrack and he couldn't help but smile. He loved that.

"You were thinking, what, a little helpless co-ed before bed?" she said to the vampire. "You know very well, you eat this late..." Buffy paused and staked him. "You're gonna get heartburn. Get it? Heartburn?" The vampire turned to dust and she stood there, disappointed. "That's it? That's all I get? One lame-ass vamp with no appreciation for my painstakingly thought-out puns? I don't think the forces of darkness are even trying". She looked up at the heavens and said louder, "I mean, you could make a little effort here, you know? Give me something to work with".

Spike gave an evil grin as she marched away. "Watch your mouth, little girl. You should know better than to tempt the fates that way".

Sure, he knew he was posturing. He'd never actually hurt her. But so what; a cocky attitude was better than brooding. He was brassed-off, and it made him feel a little better to pretend. Pretend he was stalking his third Slayer, pretend he was about to go in for the kill. "'Cause the Big Bad is back, and this time, it's... Urrgh!"

Spike fell from the tree, writhing in surprised agony as men in military uniforms tasered him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Notes:**

Dialogue adapted from 'The Initiative' and 'Pangs'.

* * *

The vampire leapt to his feet, snarling, fangs glistening. Men with tasers had been advancing on him, but now they paused, thunderstruck.

"What's this, then?" he roared at them. "Who do you sodding wankers think you're dealing with?"

Spike was angry, confused, hurt. And that was before these pillocks had shown up. If they wanted a fight, then by all that was unholy he'd give them a fight.

The military-looking blokes had him surrounded. William the Bloody turned in a circle, growling fiercely, daring them to come closer. At a signal, several of them peppered him with tranquilizer guns. There was a slight tingle of numbness where each of the darts had hit, a bit of paralysis in the very localized regions of the dart tips, but not much else. He laughed and nonchalantly pulled the darts out, swaggering closer and closer to the one he'd picked out as the leader.

One of the men spoke into his comm. unit. "Hostile appears to be immune to sedation. Advise".

The static-y reply came back. "Terminate hostile. Repeat. Terminate hostile".

Spike bounced lightly on the balls of his feet in anticipation. "I'd like to see you try".

They did. Several arrows lodged in his heart. Ouch. He looked down at them, head cocked curiously. "Hmm. Looks like that didn't work". Spike lifted his head back up and gave a predatory smile. "Got anything else?"

Yanking the arrows out, he flew at the leader, tackling him to the ground, fists slamming into him repeatedly.

Instead of fleeing like he'd expected, the other soldiers attacked him, abandoning their weapons and diving in with fists as well. Well then. This was his kind of fun. As the punches flew, Spike came to the realization that the toy soldiers weren't quite human. He should have knocked them out by now, but instead the six of them kept bouncing back, weeble-wobble-like.

Huh. He'd been holding back, Buffy's earlier censorious words about him ringing in his ears, but this was different. These blokes were intent on taking him down, and he was starting to get bloody tired of it. There was only so much the Gem could do for him. Especially when another unit of six men showed up and added their tasers into the mix. The tasers might not stop him, but they still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

Right. Time to finish this then. If Buffy didn't like it, tough. This was a matter of self-preservation. The more of them he took out, the harder the remaining ones fought. It lasted longer than he would have liked, but an hour after they'd first attacked him, the military blokes wouldn't be getting up again. Ever.

Spike stood there panting, waiting to catch his un-necessary breath, unsure of what to do next, when six more soldiers arrived and attempted to flank him. A radio squawked. "Agent Finn. Report status immediately". Whoever Agent Finn was, he ignored the repeated command. The men kept high-powered rifles trained on him. Clearly the buggers were getting smarter. It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt. Maybe enough to give them the advantage. He was about to slip away, until he heard one of the commandos say, "Riley, aren't you going to respond?"

Riley. Agent Finn. _Riley Finn_. The one who thought he could touch Spike's girl?

He saw red. Before Finn could react, Spike had him trapped, fangs sunk deep into his neck. The others he'd killed in self-preservation, but this one… this one he wanted to hurt.

Except…

"Buffy! They're over here!" It was the boy's voice. That Xander. With the Slayer. Spike hesitated only a moment, then dropped Finn and took off running.

He knew that as soon as Buffy saw the carnage he'd left behind, he'd be running for his life.

* * *

After her lame-ass patrol, Buffy had hurried back to the dorm, and twenty minutes later was freshly scrubbed and dressed and ready to party.

Soon she and Willow were walking through the front door of Lowell House. Willow nudged her. "Look – there's Riley. Go flirt".

Buffy looked around at all the cute guys and gave her friend a mischievous smile. "Oh no, I think I should check out the competition first, don't you? Play a little hard to get. Make him work for it".

"Well, that is an option".

"'Sides, Riley is cute and all, but… I don't really know him. Who says he's the oversized man for me? Come on, let's go dance".

"You go ahead. I'm just going to go talk to somebody for a moment".

Giving her friend a smile, Buffy slipped on over to the dance floor, immediately finding a willing dance partner. Two songs later, feeling invigorated by the music, she went in search of the redhead and found her talking to Riley.

"Buffy!" he exclaimed as she approached. "It's good to see you. Are you having fun?"

She gave him a flirty smile. "Sure. Lots of cute guys here".

Willow leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I came, I partied, I'm ready to go. Promise fulfilled. See you back at the dorm, okay?"

Buffy gave her an appraising look, but only nodded. "Be safe".

As soon as her friend had left, Riley spoke. "So, Buffy… um, did you do the reading on chapter nine?"

_Normal_? Buffy thought incredulously. Try dull. Or maybe he really was that shy. "Yeah. Some interesting theories. Which one do you like?"

He gave off an audible sigh of relief. "You know, it's hard to choose. They all have their merits, but…" he trailed off as a man with a military bearing approached him.

"What's up Graham?"

"There's a situation si- … Riley. With the plumbing. Downstairs. _Urgent_," he added, as Riley didn't react.

"Oh. Ah. Buffy, I'm sorry, I need to take care of this. We've had some plumbing problems and these guys are complete idiots, can't fix anything without me. I'll catch you later?"

Buffy smiled, concealing the hurt she felt. Apparently she rated second to _plumbing_. So much for normal and sweet. She headed back to the dance floor, wanting to shimmy her troubles away, but then Xander came bursting in, dressed in his pizza delivery boy outfit.

"Buffy! Thank god I found you! I was on campus – delivering a pizza – and then I heard this huge fight, so I swung by to check it out, 'cause I thought it might be you. Buffy – it was Spike. Spike's in town. And he was _slaughtering_ those commandos. The ones you've been seeing. Just tearing them apart!"

"No!" she said, shocked, eyes wide with despair. "What – why?"

"I don't know. Maybe… maybe they attacked him. Or maybe he started it. I have no idea. But, come one, you've got to stop him!"

"Why is he doing this?" she huffed. "That's it. He's already worn out his welcome. Tonight I kill him". She followed Xander out, both of them sprinting through the chill night air.

Xander called, "Buffy! They're over here!"

She raced towards the sound of his voice, coming to a full stop when she saw the carnage in front of her. A dozen soldiers were scattered about, obviously dead. Three more were standing in a perimeter, weapons facing outward into the night. Another two were supporting a third, who was sporting a massive neck wound. As soon as they noticed her, their posture stiffened.

"Nothing to see here, miss. This is a military operation. You are not authorized to be here. Please leave immediately".

She ignored them. "Where is he? Where'd he go?" she demanded.

"Who?"

"The va-… the guy who did this? Where is he?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. We are… conducting routine training exercises". Two of the commandos who had been guarding the perimeter approached her and Xander, and with a firm hand, were now trying to march them away. Opposite the dead bodies, the two supporting the injured soldier were quickly bearing him away from the scene.

Buffy glared at the man with his hand on her. "I'd let go if I were you," she hissed as she yanked her arm away, coming to a standstill and refusing to budge. "Why'd he do this? Did you guys attack him? Who _are_ you anyway? This is _my_ town".

The soldier faced her, impassive and silent. Through the mask and goggles, she had no idea what he looked like. With a sigh she turned to Xander. "Come on. He's obviously gone. Let's see if we can find him". She marched off, leaving the non-plussed commandos in her wake.

* * *

Spike tore across campus, headed for Buffy's dorm. He'd looked up her room number earlier, before stopping by her house, thinking maybe to catch her in her room, but had decided to take her things to Revello Drive instead. Now he raced to the dorm, hoping she wouldn't go straight there.

Composing himself, he knocked on her door. "Come in," the witch called, and he did. She gasped and scrabbled backwards on her bed, away from him.

"Spike! Wh- what do you want?" She made to scream, but he was beside her in an instant, hand clapped over her mouth.

"Just listen to me," he said soothingly. "'M not gonna hurt you. I… I need help. Need you to put a good word in for me, alright?"

He uncovered her mouth and she glared at him. "Why? Why on earth would I help you?" She narrowed her eyes. "You still want to mess with Buffy? Torment her? She's been through enough, you know".

Spike paced the room like a caged animal. "I know," he growled. "I – I'm trying to do right here. I just want her to know that what she thinks – that it was an act, that I was playing with her – is wrong. I did mean it. Every sodding word I ever said to her. I mean it". He turned his tortured eyes on her. "But I keep messing up. Can't help it. Can't stop the monster inside of me". He scrubbed his face with his hands while Willow watched him warily.

"Look. Tell her… tell her they attacked me. It was self-defense". At her bewildered expression he added, "She'll know what I mean. Bunch of bloody soldier boys tried to take me out. I stopped them. Anyhow. 'M leaving town, won't come back, 'less I hear she wants me to. If she leaves word at Willie's, I'll come".

He strode to the door and stepped through, then paused and turned around. "'M sorry about kidnapping you last year".

"Really?" she squeaked, surprised.

He gave a tight laugh. "Not really. But I'm trying to be. Trying to be lots of things. For _her_". And he left in a swirl of black leather.

* * *

When Buffy burst through the door ten minutes later, Willow was still in the same position, frowning in deep thought.

"Willow, call Giles and tell him Spike's still in town. I was hoping he'd left after dropping off my things, but no luck. He's here, he's murdering people, and I need to put a stop to him tonight". The words came streaming out of her as she hunted under bed for weapons.

When Willow didn't answer, she popped back up and turned to her with a questioning look.

"He's left town now," the redhead told her. "For good".

"Huh?"

"Spike was here. You just missed him. He told me to tell you he was leaving town".

Buffy's legs gave out and she sat down on her bed.

"He was here? And he wanted, what, to give you a message for me?" she asked in disbelief.

"Pretty much. He said… he said that the soldiers attacked him and it was self-defense. I guess you already know what he was talking about?"

"Oh. Yeah, I do. Self-defense?" she repeated blankly.

"So he said". Willow had moved, and was sitting next to Buffy now. "He said a couple of things. Let's see. It was self-defense. He's leaving town for good, and he'll only come back if you leave a message for him at Willie's. And… and he said he hadn't been pretending and it wasn't an act. He really meant all those things he told you, but he couldn't help messing up, couldn't stop being a monster no matter how he tried. It was… he looked so sincere Buffy. I believed him".

Buffy's face was a mass of roiling emotion. "Really? You think he's really trying?"

"I actually do. Maybe he fooled me too, but… Spike's never been that good of a liar. I think he was telling the truth". She gave a little shake of her head. "He even apologized to me for kidnapping me last year".

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Of course, he admitted right away that he wasn't really sorry, but he was trying to be. For your sake".

Buffy flopped backwards. "What am I supposed to do?" she groaned in misery.

"Do? Nothing. He's gone. Nothing to do. Unless you want him back".

"This is so messed up. Of course I don't want him back. I'd have to stake him. Or maybe I should have him come back so I can. I mean, now he's going to go who knows where and do who knows what".

"Can you actually kill him? With the ring protecting him?"

"Yeah. Good point. I don't know. I'll have Giles do some research on it. I'll decide what to do then".

* * *

"It's too bad you don't work for the pizza place anymore," Willow said to Xander, biting into a thick slice of pizza dripping with cheese. "I miss the half-price pizzas".

"Yes, but now Xander has a job digging. Tomorrow I get to watch him dig. I expect to be very excited by it," Anya said loudly.

"Why is she here again?" Willow whispered to Buffy.

"I think they're dating," Buffy whispered back.

"Isn't that, I don't know, creepy? The only reason she's here in the first place is because Cordelia wished for vengeance on Xander".

Buffy shrugged. "Stranger pairings have occurred. The heart wants what the heart wants".

It was true. Her heart still wanted what it shouldn't. Mass slaughter aside, Spike's message to Willow had left a little tingle of hope inside her. Maybe she wouldn't have to feel guilty for caring about the vampire after all, wouldn't have to fulfill her sacred duty and rid the world of one more homicidal bloodsucker.

She was still trying to figure out how to dust him though. Just in case.

Buffy slammed the book shut. "I hate myths. You never know what's true and what's not. So the most obvious thing is to get the ring away from him".

"Except it's not like Spike is just going to hold out his hand and let you take it off," Xander retorted. Buffy considered that. He might, if she asked him. If he really did love her. Of course, if he did, then would she actually be able to dust him?

"Barring that, I do believe decapitation should work. If you can remove the head quickly, in one clean stroke, despite the mystical power of the ring he should not heal quickly enough to prevent death from occurring," Giles opined.

"I still say you cut off his hand," Willow said. "The gem would no longer be in contact with his body, leaving him vulnerable".

"Good ideas all... I have to wonder how quickly healing does occur, though. I mean, I shoved a knife through his eye, and when I pulled it out he was instantly fine," Buffy reminded them.

"Maybe tranquilizers?" Xander asked.

She shook her head. "You saw the weaponry those commandos were sporting. They'd used multiple tasers and tranquilizer darts on him. Nothing stopped him".

"I envy him his invulnerability. I do not like being vulnerable and mortal. It's unpleasant," Anya said. "I deduce the only thing to do is hope he wants to please you and takes off the ring if you ask him to".

"Crap," Buffy said. "Or maybe I'll just have to hope he doesn't come back".

The phone rang, and Giles moved to the kitchen to answer it. "Buffy. It's for you," he said.

"Me?" she asked quizzically. "Hello?"

"Buffy". It was Angel. After he'd returned to L.A, he'd called once, as promised, but the conversation had been stilted. They hadn't talked since.

"What's up?"

Angel described the vision Doyle had had to her, explained that she was in danger. "So just watch out, alright?"

"Well that's really vague. I'm always in danger. I'm the Slayer. He couldn't have visioned anything a little more helpful?"

"Sorry, that's all I've got. I… I could come help if you wanted," he offered.

"No, that's okay. I'll just be extra careful, I guess. Keep on the lookout for guys that want to fight me. Should narrow it down".

"Buffy…"

"Thanks Angel, I'll talk to you later. Tell you how it all went". She hung up on him.

Turning to the gang she said, "So. There's another threat. Besides Spike. Here's what Angel told me…" and she repeated his information.

Giles polished his glasses. "That's rather vague".

"Exactly what I said! And the day before Thanksgiving too! Whoever these guys are, they'd better not ruin my dinner".

She frowned. "I have too much to do tomorrow".


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Notes:**

It makes me awful happy to see reviews :) Here's hoping they stay nice as Riley shows up more often... I know a lot of fans don't like him, but, well, Buffy does, and I'm aiming to keep our favorite characters as true to form as I see it. Just remember that this is a Spuffy story, so eventually he has to go away.

My thanks to the writers of a whole bunch of S4 episodes - I appropriated like crazy (yes, I am too lazy to look them up right now. But if you're reading this, you know who you are).

* * *

Tugging off the sweater she'd put on earlier to repel the December morning air, Buffy headed to class, slowing as she saw a familiar person helping some girls hang a banner across the commons. She walked closer and turned so she could read it. Huh. That was… different.

Riley saw her when he dismounted the step ladder. "Oh. Hey Buffy," he said happily.

She nodded at the banner. "You have something to tell me?"

"What?" He looked at the banner too. "Oh. Yes, I am a lesbian".

"It's good that you're open about it," she teased. "How are your parents dealing?"

"They just want me to be happy". Riley followed Buffy as she began to walk to class once more. "Sorry I ditched you the other night. It was a real mess. We were stuck down there for hours, water everywhere".

"It's okay. I actually had to leave anyway. I remembered I had some things to take care of".

"Well, maybe we can try again. Go on that picnic we were talking about. Once finals are over". She raised her eyebrows at him. "So that was one of the conversations I only practiced having with you, I'm guessing," he mumbled in chagrin.

"You practice talking to me?"

"Uh. Okay, yes, I have been known to do a little prep work before our conversations. It's not easy, you know. Talking to you sometimes, it's like an oral exam".

Was that supposed to be flattering? "And that's just what every girl longs to hear".

"Well, you're tricky," Riley protested.

Buffy smiled wryly. "Like an exam".

"I never know how you're going to react to something. That's why I like you so much. You're a mystery". Riley laughed nervously. "Probably every beautiful girl in the world has some jerk telling her she's a mystery, but I swear you really are. There's a lot about you that needs puzzling out".

She stopped walking and stared at him. Maybe he was sweet after all. Just… nervous. He stopped and looked at her too.

"I lose you somewhere?" he asked after a beat, worried.

"Right around beautiful". She gave him a shy smile. He grinned in return.

"Say, don't you just love a picnic?"

Images of another picnic raced through her head. Spike on his back, watching the clouds, his belly her pillow. "Uh. Actually, no. I have this thing about picnics. A fear of eating outside".

Riley stared at her. "A complete and absolute mystery," he grinned.

She tittered nervously. He was getting closer to asking her out on a date. Did she want to go out with him? Once couldn't hurt, she supposed. She wasn't seeing anybody else. Certainly _not_ Spike. He was gone. Out of her life. It was the way it had to be.

"I like the Bronze," she offered tentatively.

"I love that place!" he answered, smiling broadly. "Maybe I'll see you there".

Buffy related the conversation to Willow later, on patrol. "He's such a goof! But in a nice way. I think".

"So there's sparkage?"

"I think there could be. I think maybe I should find out".

"And your feelings for Spike?" Willow wondered. "Are they going away?"

Buffy shook her head. "They're not. No matter what, they're not. Every time I think I've got it under control, something changes". She spun and staked a vampire that had been creeping up behind them. "But whatever I feel for Spike, nothing can happen. Even if he is trying to change, I can't trust him. Can't let myself love him. I have to move on". Her voice became plaintive. "I have to, Willow. I can't keep feeling these things, going back and forth like this. It's driving me crazy. Maybe Riley is the distraction I need. A real, live, breathing man with some crazy nice arms".

"Oh, Buffy. I'm so sorry about Spike. Just… just don't hurt Riley to try to fix it. Don't make him a rebound".

Buffy blew out a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't encourage him. Shouldn't go on a date until I sort myself out".

"You could always send for Spike. Talk to him…" Willow suggested

"Or maybe it would just make it worse. I don't know". She turned around. "Come on, I think we're done for the night".

* * *

"He's gone!" Willow wailed as she entered their room.

"Who gone? Where gone?" Buffy responded in alarm, jumping up.

"Oz! All his things are cleared out, his whole room empty". Willow flung herself on her bed, sobbing noisily. "I found Devon… and… and…" she cried, unable to continue.

Buffy went to her, sitting beside her and stroking her hair. "It's okay. Cry it out".

Eventually her sobbing subsided into snuffling, and Willow tried again. "Devon said Oz sent for his things. I guess that means he's planning on settling down somewhere. Else. Not here".

"Guess so," Buffy replied, at a loss for what to say.

"I feel like I've been split down the center. And half of me is lost!"

"I know. It feels like that now, but…"

Willow was too devastated to listen. "Oz is gone," she whispered in a tiny, disbelieving voice.

Buffy got up and paced, helpless. There was no one to punch, no way to hit her friend's problems away.

Willow sat up suddenly, shivering. "I can't stand feeling this way. I want it to be over".

"And it will be. Eventually. It just takes time".

"Time isn't working for _you_".

Buffy stopped pacing and stared at her. "It will. It has to".

"Isn't there some way I can make it go away now? Just 'cause I say so? Make it go 'poof'!"

"No. I wish there was. Believe me, I know how you feel. We… we just have to wait it out".

Willow looked at her, but didn't answer.

* * *

Buffy came in from her early morning class to find Willow desultorily cleaning Amy's cage. The minute Willow saw her, she bounced up and began to pace.

"You just missed Giles. He was looking for you".

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"He said he wanted me to stop doing spells. He thought I was too unfocused".

Buffy frowned, confused. "That's what he wan-…" But Willow cut her off.

"I mean, I'm going through something, and I just don't see why he was getting down on me".

"Giles just worries. You know how he is. But did he say what he wanted? With _me_?"

Willow paused in her rant. "I don't know".

Buffy pulled her coat back on. "Maybe it had something to do with Spike. How to defeat him. He told me there -"

Willow interrupted again. "So you're going? Right now?"

Buffy was actually relieved to have an excuse. Willow had been crying on her shoulder for days now, and she wanted to be a good friend she really did. But enough was enough. "Sorry. Duty thing. I'll be back soon, promise".

Willow narrowed her eyes, instantly switching from moping to angry. "You know, instead of boohooing and pretending you want to know how to kill Spike, you should go talk to him. You tell me time heals, but I don't see you moving on. You can't even go on a date with another guy. And you're not going to be able to until you sort things out with that vampire". Willow's eyes flashed. "Find Spike. Talk to him. Decide what to do _finally_".

Buffy shook her head, clearing away the fuzzies that had tried to crowd in on her brain. Of course. It was all so easy. "See you later," she said distractedly, and grabbing her purse, she left, Willow staring after her in dismay.

At the bus station, waiting for the bus to arrive, she tried to call Willow and thank her for the advice, but there was no answer. She called Xander next. "Hey, Wills there?"

"Uh, no".

"Tell her I have a lead on Spike. I'm going to go take care of him for once and for all," she told her friend.

"Where? I'm ready to mount up!"

"It's okay, Xand. I've got it covered. I'll talk to you later". She hung up and sat quietly, waiting.

Three hours later, she disembarked in a small seaside town north of L.A. Without even pausing to consider it, she headed straight to the beach. The afternoon sun beat down, warming the winter air. Buffy took her coat off and turned north, following the sand until it disappeared and the shoreline became strewn with small rocks.

A rocky outcrop blocked her way, but Buffy climbed right over it. Spike stood on the other side, skipping rocks. He was clad only in his black jeans, and his tousled hair clearly showed his roots. This was the first time she'd seen him since New York. Her heart did a little summersault at the sight of him, and then she took a breath and hardened it.

She'd talk to Spike, but she wouldn't be happy to see him. Even if he had been telling the truth about wanting to change, his efforts to give up evil hadn't been going very well. Buffy thought that Giles might be right. Despite his best efforts, Spike might very well be unredeemable. Too dangerous to let live.

Keeping that thought firmly in her mind, she pulled a stake out of her pocket and scrambled down the rocks, coming to stand near him. He ignored her, flicking the last stone in his hand, sending it out over the water with seven, ten, twelve skips, until it finally sank into the glittering sea.

He turned to her then, and with a weary sigh at the sight of her stake asked, "Come for a confrontation, have we?"

She tried to keep her voice hard, but instead it came out small and unsure. "I don't know". Holding the stake up, she asked, "Am I going to need this?"

"You shouldn't have to ask that. You should know".

"I thought I knew. I trusted you. It turned out to be a mistake".

Pain flashed across his face. He turned away and picked up a rock, threw it. "You're alive, aren't you? You'd be dead if you'd made a mistake". Another rock went hurtling into the ocean. "And I wouldn't be standing here, having this bleeding conversation, feeling…" he grimaced. "Feeling guilt and shame and… like my heart is being ripped into a thousand tiny bits".

"_Your_ heart?" Buffy snapped. "I never promised you anything".

Spike moved swiftly, coming to stand inches from her, his eyes boring angrily into hers. "Didn't you? Seem to remember you promising not to abandon me. To believe in me. To help me," he finished with a snarl.

She raised her stake threateningly, and he backed off even as he said, "Can't kill me, Slayer. You should know that by now".

"I'm working on a way," she replied coldly. Pointing at him accusingly, she continued, "I made that promise thinking you were somebody different. Somebody interested in redemption. You turned out not to be".

He gave a disbelieving half-laugh, hurt etching his features. "I'm exactly who I told you I was, Slayer. Promised you I'd try. Didn't guarantee success".

She only frowned at him, and he threw his hands up in the air. "I… I can't take this Buffy. This pain, here," he thumped his heart. "It doesn't go away. When I see you, it just gets worse. I'd hoped… maybe you'd understand. Give me a break. A chance. But I guess _you_ fooled _me_. You didn't believe in me after all".

"Funny," Buffy hissed, "I had a hard time _believing_ in you when your girlfriend's teeth were in my neck. Can't understand why".

* * *

Spike closed his eyes and willed himself not to retort. Here it was, his chance to make things right, and his smart mouth wasn't going to let him.

"I stopped her," he told Buffy as calmly as he could. I know I buggered it up at first, but I fixed it. Stopped her. I thought that might count for something".

"And here I thought you were just taking a smoochy break, 'cause that's what it looked like to me".

No, that hadn't been it at all. He'd broken Dru's kiss, told Buffy to run, and she had. And when Dru had wanted to give chase…

_"Naughty boy. You told me you were done with games, you bad dog. This is a fun game. The stars dance and sing around us when you let little girls go and then hunt them down". She bounced in excitement. When Spike didn't move, she added. "Aren't you going to go get her now? Drag her back kicking and screaming?"_

_"No"._

_"No?" She stamped her foot. "You know I don't like to run after my food. It makes the pixies in my head screech and clang"._

_"Neither of us is going to get her. We're letting the Slayer go"._

_"You've gone and ruined my present!" she wailed. "Not nice! Not nice at all". Her eyes fixed on him with mad cunning. "I shall get my present myself, I think". Spike stopped her, pulled her back, before she could get away._

_"No, pet. We're done. She's not your present. Leave her alone". Drusilla snapped at him and he shook her. "I mean it, Dru. Leave the sodding Slayer alone. Forever"._

_She slumped, as if acquiescing, but then sprang away the minute he let her go. "No," she said, completely lucid, hovering in the doorway. "The Slayer has taken my prince from me and she shall pay. Even if you never come back to me, at least she shan't have my prize". And with a speed Spike had never suspected of her, she sprinted away._

_"Sodding hell!" he growled, chasing after her. "Drusilla, no!" But Drusilla didn't listen. Not as he chased her down the stairwell, not as he caught her in the street, pinning her against a tree. Like a deranged animal, she snarled and snapped and howled that she would have her revenge._

_Spike was terrified. Terrified that Drusilla would never stop chasing Buffy. So he did the only thing he could. He broke a branch off the tree and staked her._

_She looked at him sadly, reaching up to caress his cheek, and then she was gone forever._

He'd killed Drusilla for Buffy. Not that he would ever tell the Slayer. The chit wouldn't understand what it meant to him, destroying his dark goddess, his savior, like that.

Buffy waited for him to answer her accusation, her expression showing nothing but contempt for him, and a wave of despair washed over him. She wouldn't forgive him. Maybe he didn't deserve forgiveness, but that didn't stop him from wanting it. For the first time since he'd been turned, the endless span of years before him seemed like torture.

"Fine," he said bleakly. "You don't believe me". Looking up at the sun, he continued, " S'all pointless. This world. Without something to live for. I understand now that I don't. Have something to live for. Try for. Pointless".

He looked back at Buffy, her golden hair framing her perplexed, beautiful face, stake still gripped tightly. He reached up to run his fingers through that hair, needing to touch her, but she flinched and pulled away. His hand fell, fingers twitching in unfulfillment. Instead he memorized her face, wanting her visage to be the last thing he saw. Without looking, he gestured to the stake, his desolate blue eyes remaining focused on her green ones. "No need for that , luv".

And he pulled the Gem of Amarra off his finger.


	23. Chapter 23

** Author's Note:** (Sounds of evil laughter) Yes, I really did like that last chapter. A lot. Hopefully you like this chapter as much as I do.

I read somewhere that the surname of Pratt for Spike was meant to be a joke and that eventually his real last name would be revealed, but... anybody else have a clue?

Joss Whedon, ME, Fox, etc own these characters. A bunch of talented writers came up with some of the dialogue I have used. Thanks for letting us play!

* * *

Buffy tackled him to the ground, desperately attempting to shield him from the bright afternoon sun with her body. "Put it back on!" she screamed, praying he would, that it wouldn't be too late, the acrid stench of burning flesh assaulting her nostrils.

The hard body beneath her didn't disintegrate, only smoked and steamed. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded when she felt sure he was safe.

"Thought you wanted to kill me," he muttered sullenly, pushing her off and sitting up. "Was making it easy on you. Don't you want me dead?"

"You are dead".

He glared at her. "I thought you wanted to stake me good and proper. To_ kill _me," he emphasized.

"I do want to kill you. I just don't want you to die. Dust". Her lower lip crept out. "I'm not ready for you to not be here".

Hope swam in his bright blue eyes. She couldn't stand him looking at her like that. So she socked him in the nose. Hard. And leapt away, expecting him to retaliate.

Instead he sat there, pinching his nose as the blood quickly slowed to a stop, the viscous red liquid mixing with the burns on his skin. "What does this mean, pet?"

"That I punched you? It means you're a jerk and you pissed me off".

"No," he shook his head, frustrated, and stood up. "Do you want me around – around you?"

"I… I don't know what it means. If you…"

Buffy trailed off as her eyes glazed over. She didn't notice Spike's do the same.

_(…I mean, I'm going through something – and you'd think, every once in a while, Buffy could make best friends a priority._

_You know, Will, this Spike thing's been hanging over her head for weeks now…_

_Spike's more important that Willow. I get it._

_If Buffy has a lead on how to take care of Spike, she has to do it. _

_Well fine! Why doesn't she just go marry him._)

Spike bent down on one knee in front of Buffy, sliding his favorite ring off and holding it up to her. Buffy glanced shyly at him in hopeful anticipation, and her heart leapt as he spoke.

"Buffy. You know I love you. Want to be everything to you. Please, sweetheart, will you marry me?"

Her stomach did cartwheels and her heart fluttered. To _marry_ him. To never have to worry again if her feelings were right or wrong, because for better or for worse, they'd be together. Forever. Could she really? "I… I don't know what to say, Spike. This is all so sudden".

His face shone with love and devotion. He took her hand. "Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth".

Yes. That would be the answer to all her problems. She could love Spike and it wouldn't have to hurt anymore. "Oh, Spike! Of course it's yes!"

His expression, which had been so forlorn minutes ago, was radiant as he slipped the silver skull ring on her finger. It was too big for her, but she didn't care. It was his and she loved it.

He stood, blinking back tears. "Buffy. I love you so much. You don't know how much". He pulled her to him, and, wrapping his arms around her, tenderly covered her lips with his.

Oh. Yes. She'd longed for this, for his kiss, for weeks. Melting against him, she said, "I love you too, Spike".

He picked her up, twirled her around, both of them laughing breathlessly, then set her down and kissed her thoroughly. Her hands crept into his hair and his own tangled in hers. On and on they kissed, desperate, passionate, in love.

She finally pulled back, gasping for breath, her hands roaming over his bare back. "Spike…" Smiling up at him, she said, "I'm so happy. I can't tell you how happy I am".

"Me too, luv. When shall we do it? Get married?"

Twining her fingers in his, she answered, "As soon as possible. I want to make you mine. Forever". Before anybody could talk her out of it.

"You want to elope? Vegas? Have Elvis marry us?"

She giggled. "How far away is that?"

"Nine hours. Eight if I drive fast".

She kissed him again. "Too long. Can't wait". Looking down shyly, she added, "Want to make love to my husband".

Blue eyes shone at her. "Don't need to wait, then. Some cultures – Quakers, Highlanders – they didn't have ceremonies. Didn't need preachers. They said their vows before God and married themselves".

"That's so romantic," she breathed. "I want to do that". She looked around. "Can we – on the beach? The sandy one back there? It's almost sunset. It would be perfect".

"'Course. Anything for my girl". Spike walked to a large rock where the rest of his clothes were and began to pull on his shirt, covering the faint burns on his skin.

When he was done, she took his hand again, and they walked back to the sandy beach, giving each other nervous little smiles and occasionally stopping for a heated kiss.

Buffy's mind whirled. In just a few minutes she would be making her marriage vows. What did she want to say? She was no good with words; if she had days to do it, maybe she could come up with something. She supposed she would just have to speak from the heart.

Soon, they were there, the reddish-orange sun creeping closer to the horizon. Spike ducked his head bashfully. "You ready then?"

"Yup! Just…" She bent down and traced a giant heart in the sand with her fingers, then stepped inside, holding her hands out to him. "I was thinking it's kinda like a magic circle. Makes it more binding. Or at least, more romantic".

He stepped inside as well, taking her hands in his. Buffy had a moment's panic. "Uh, Spike? What's your name? Your real one? I don't know if I can marry somebody named 'William the Bloody'".

"Whereas Buffy has that touch of classic elegance" he replied snarkily.

"My mother gave me that name! And your mother did not name you that. So what is it?" She retorted.

He kissed her hands. "William Harrison Pratt".

She kissed his in return. "I, Buffy Anne Summers, promise to take you, William Harrison Pratt, as my husband. I promise to love you and to cherish you. To understand who you are and to help you choose right. To guide you and lead you but not control you. I promise to stand up for you to my family and friends. I promise to temper everything I say and do with love, to always believe in you, and to never abandon you. I promise to love you with my body, heart, and mind, until the day I die".

Both of them were crying, the tears flowing silently down their faces. Spike took her hands, still clasped in his, and placed them over his heart. "If my heart could beat it would break my chest," he murmured. She gave him a tender, watery smile.

With an answering smile, he began his own vows. "I, William Harrison Pratt - the _Bloody_," he gave her a small wink, "promise to take you, Buffy Anne Summers, as my wife. I promise to honor and obey you as I promise to love you and cherish you. I promise to renounce my evil ways and strive to be a man worthy of your love. I promise to spend every waking minute devoted to your happiness and to protect you with everything that I am. I promise to love you with my body, heart, and mind for the rest of eternity".

As he finished, the sun touched the horizon. Together they turned to face it, watching it sink into the ocean, the water alight with its fiery reflection. When the sun finally slipped below the water line, they faced each other once more, hands still held tightly together. "I love you, Mrs. Pratt".

"Not Mrs. Pratt yet. We forgot something".

"What?"

She leaned forward and kissed him with all the shyness of a new bride. Her eyes sparkled. "Now I'm Mrs. Pratt". He grinned foolishly at her. Together they stepped out of the sandy heart.

"What now?" he asked. "Would you like to dance?"

Buffy looked up at the first stars just beginning to twinkle in the night sky. "It's nighttime," she said.

"Marriage had only enhanced your powers of observation, luv".

She whapped him on the shoulder. "I mean it's our wedding night. I heard tell there's an activity traditional to wedding nights".

"Oooh. You little minx". He curled his tongue. "I do believe my wife wants her conjugal rights". He scooped her up and carried her from the beach to his car, her arms around his neck and head on his chest. "I have a small flat. S'nothing fancy. Or there's a B-an'-B down the way. Be a bit more romantic like".

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Whichever's faster".

He groaned and set her on the hood of his DeSoto. "You keep talking like that kitten, an' I'll be consummating our marriage right here". She giggled impishly, slid off the hood, and got into his car.

"Take me home, Mr. Pratt". He did.

Spike pulled up in front of a small duplex not far away, and before Buffy could move, he was around to her side and opening her door. He refused to let her walk, instead picking her up and carrying her to the door which he kicked open with a muttered, "Fix it later," and then over the threshold, Buffy giggling the whole time. In only a few long strides he had crossed the small living room and was into the single bedroom, gently depositing his new bride on the large bed.

Buffy looked around curiously. "Like I said, s'not much, but s'home," Spike told her. The bedroom was cheerful but impersonal, done up in seaside décor, and not at all the type of place she would have imagined Spike living. She had envisaged him sleeping amongst dark wood and rich tapestries, softly lit by dozens of flickering candles. Not that it mattered. All that mattered right now was her husband. Who was standing at the foot of the bed kicking his boots off.

Lying back, Buffy reached her arms out to him. "I'm lonely here all by myself".

Spike looked down at her and his lips curved, slowly, sultrily. "Tell me, my blushing bride, have you pined for me? Longed for me while we've been apart?" Biting her lip, Buffy nodded. Spike crawled up the bed, not touching her, and whispered in her ear, "Did you dream of me touching you? Touch yourself and pretend it was me?"

Now Buffy truly was the blushing bride. She had. In the dark of night, when she could hide it even from herself, she'd run her hands over her body and imagined they were Spike's cool ones, wet her fingers and pretended they were his tongue. She tried to reach for him, but he took both her hands in one of his and pinned them above her head. "Answer me, my love". His unneeded breath tickled her ear.

Closing her eyes tightly in embarrassment, she nodded. His mouth moved from her ear to her neck. "That's my girl. Knew you couldn't forget me". He nipped his way down her neck until he reached her collar, then pulled up and brushed his lips across her eyelashes, tickling her. "Look at me, luv".

Buffy did. His eyes were the deepest blue she'd ever seen. She squirmed, wanting to touch him, and he let her hands go. They immediately flew to his chest, tracing his muscles through the soft fabric of his t-shirt, then lowered to slip underneath. She sighed in satisfaction, and began to tug his shirt over his head. When it was off, she rolled so he was under her and straddled him, pressing kisses down his chest, then back up again to his lips. His own fingers undid the buttons of her shirt, trembling slightly as she sat up and he slipped it off her shoulders, exposing the lacy white bra beneath.

She gazed lovingly at him, and his breath caught at the sight of her reaching up and pulling her hair back, then letting it fall across her shoulders. She ground down on him at the same time with a little swirl of her hips, moaning at the feel of him beneath her. With a kittenish smile Buffy said, "I've been waiting too long to do this," and she slipped off of him and undid his zipper, pulling his jeans down and off of him in a single sharp movement.

Then she wrapped her hands around his length. Spike groaned and bucked as she squeezed his cock, marveling at how soft his skin was and how warm he felt. She'd thought it would be cool like the rest of him, and wondered what he would taste like as she lightly slid her hands up and down, enjoying the way he throbbed and pulsed. Her very limited sexual experience had never included felatio and she was afraid to try, afraid she'd get it wrong.

Spike watched her with hooded eyes, hands clasped behind his head. He seemed to be enjoying her actions, so she bent down and licked the tip of his cock, one tentative little swipe. "Bloody hell!" he gasped, hands flying forward and tangling in her hair as he bucked. Pleased with his reaction, she did it again, this time swirling her tongue around his whole head. "Oh! Buffy… So good…" he moaned.

A few licks later, drops of fluid began to ooze from the head of his cock. Cautiously, she tasted it, and found it wasn't bad at all. A little sweet, a little salty. She began to get into it then, sliding him into her mouth as far as she could, reveling in the way he twitched and babbled her name as she bobbed up and down on him. Soon he was tugging her head up, saying, "Stop, luv, I want to be inside you when I cum. Please".

Lifting her head, she pouted a little. "But I was having fun".

Spike groaned. "Baby. I love you so much. Come here". She moved up him and lay down, and he rolled her over so he covered her small body with his. "Loved what you were doing. But it's my turn now". He trailed wet kisses over her, hands running lightly up and down her sides, then reaching behind to undo her bra and slipping it off of her. His mouth covered one nipple, suckling the already hardened bud until Buffy thought she might explode, and then doing the same to the other.

At the same time, without her even noticing, he'd undone her pants and slid them down to her knees. His mouth left her breasts, tongue licking down to the elastic of her panties. He grabbed them with his teeth and gave a little shake, growling, then continued down, bypassing where she wanted his mouth most, kissing down the inside of her leg as he slid her pants and shoes off.

Buffy moaned and writhed while he kissed his way back up, fingers scouting the way. "Need you… need you Spike". As he worked his way up her thighs, his hair brushed against her skin, ticklish and soft, and she parted her legs for him, gasping when he rubbed his fingers against her soaking wet panties. He kissed her there, adding to the dampness, then slowly pulled them all the way off.

One finger rubbed up and down, sliding in the wetness, and he kneeled in front of her, languidly stroking himself. "I still have your other knickers. The ones I took off of you in the hotel. They smell like you, like your sweet little cunny. When I smell them, I can imagine I'm with you then, licking you, tasting you, sliding into you.

"Ungh!" Buffy was reduced to a non-verbal state by his words and his touch. The images he was painting were sinful and delicious, and she wanted them to be reality. "Please! Want!"

"Want what?" he purred, tongue curling.

"That!" Buffy cried, bucking her hips at him.

He sank down between her thighs once more, kissed her softly. "This?"

There was the briefest hesitation, a momentary flash of wrongness from an old memory, and then the need she felt for him won out. "Yes! God, please, yes!"

He obliged. He had to hold her hips tightly to keep her from thrashing as his tongue ran up her slit and flicked across her clit, wet and moist, then slid down to probe between her folds. Her hands clutched his hair, holding him in place.

Spike slid one finger into her pussy, in and out, and another, working a rhythm, and swirled his tongue on her clit, then sucked it into his mouth. It wasn't long before Buffy cried out, an orgasm washing over her, waves and waves of pleasure coursing through. Spike didn't stop, pushing her rapidly into a second orgasm, even bigger than the first, her breath coming in heaving gasps, bursts of light twinkling about her like stars. He moved so he was holding her, shushing her trembling mewls with chaste, sweet kisses.

When she could speak again, she croaked, "That should have been part of our vows. You should have promised to do that to me every day".

His laugh rumbled through her. "Oh, but I did. I promised to spend every waking minute devoted to your happiness. That's part of it".

She swallowed heavily. "Gah. If we spend every waking minute like that my brains will turn to mush".

"I'm sure I wouldn't notice," he winked at her, and then covered her mouth with his before she could retort.

Buffy was shocked when he kissed her deeply, unsure of the taste and feel of her juices from his mouth on her own, but decided after a few seconds of his passionate kisses that she didn't mind it all.

Her whole body was still pulsing and tingling when she felt his cock nudging at her entrance. "I don't think that thing is going to fit," she mumbled through a kiss.

"'Ve got you, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel good, don't worry". He reached down and guided himself in, just the tip, and Buffy felt herself stretching to accommodate him. She opened her legs wider, wrapping them around his hips. "That's right, my beautiful wife, open yourself up for me". He pushed in a little farther, then withdrew and slid in again, over and over.

They both moaned. "That's my girl. My wet, hot, wife". She arched her back, pulling him farther in, and with a grunt, he cupped her butt in one hand and drove into her, burying himself to the hilt. Buffy gasped, pleasure mixed with pain. It felt like he was splitting her open.

Spike remained still until she began to wriggle around him, and then he moved, sliding in and out of her in long, slow strokes. She bit her lip in ecstasy, and keeping her eyes locked on his, began to move in counterpoint. "Burning me alive, you are," he whispered in awe. "So hot. So _vibrant_".

"You're incredible," she whispered back. "I love how you touch me. The way you make me feel. So happy you're my husband. Mine". He rested his forehead on hers, trembling, and tears slipped from his eyes. She reached up and wiped them away. "I love you, Spike. I'm glad our first time is tonight. For our wedding night. This means… everything". Her own tears slipped out, and he kissed her again, too overcome to speak.

Soon he began to stroke harder, and she moved with him, her hair fanning out behind her, mouth open in pleasure. Buffy let out a little cry as he dipped to suck on a nipple, and buried her fingers in his hair. Soon they were both panting, gasping, and Buffy cried out his name as he took her over the edge. She could feel his own release, throbbing inside of her, as he pistoned into her, out of control.

For a long time they lay there, breathless, tangled together, until Spike moved off of her and rolled them over. "Never…" he began, "never felt anything like that before. You're amazing, Buffy, you are".

"You got the job done yourself".

"Oh, I'm not done, love".

Her eyes widened. "You're not?"

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his already hardening length.

"Not nearly".


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Notes: **For those of you who thought my Spuffy was hot, thank you, thank you. Reading Spuffy smut is fun, writing it is... daunting for me. Eek!

Again, I'm borrowing dialogue from all over. Such brilliant, creative writers.

I hate having warnings in the beginning of a chapter, cause it kinda gives things away... but... remember those warnings I have on this story? Some of the more triggery ones come into play this chapter, the kind I feel I ought to point out ahead of time, just in case that kind of thing is uncomfortable for you. I promise it's not too too bad.

Thank you Kathleen/Pfeifferpack for the following info: The comic writer who gave him the Pratt surname (with Joss' okay) was supposedly honoring Boris Karloff (William Henry Pratt: 23 November 1887 – 2 February 1969) one of the most memorable of the "horror" stars during the Universal years when Universal Studios made all the horror flix.

If Buffy's seemingly random desire to take a bus and go find Spike surprised you, I may not have made it clear - she was affected by Willow's 'Will Be Done' Spell. Willow _made _her go talk to Spike. By accident.

* * *

Buffy had no idea that sex could be so incredible. Or so varied. She'd sort of had an inkling, based on magazines and movies, but her horizons were definitely being broadened tonight. She gave a contented sigh as, a multitude of orgasms later, they finally relaxed, sated. She was holding Spike (_her husband!_) in her arms, stroking his hair as he nuzzled into her.

"You are going to come back to Sunnydale with me, right?"

"You really want me to?"

"Well, duh. You are my husband. It would be silly if you didn't".

"Got the rent paid up here for the next month. We could stay. Honeymoon".

"Mmm. That sounds nice. Unfortunately, classes call. I've already missed too much time this semester. Can't miss my finals".

"Not too sure what kind of reception I'll get in Sunnyhell. Not figuring it to be a friendly one".

Buffy was indignant on his behalf. "That's their problem. If they don't like it, too bad. It's my life".

"They'll worry, luv. It is rather sudden-like".

She was silent for awhile, contemplating. "Maybe you could make some kind of gesture. A token of good faith. So they'll know you're good now".

"Not good, pet. Can't promise that".

"But not evil, right? You're on my side?"

Spike considered that. "Yeah. Would be fine. A fight's a fight, don't much care who it's with".

"Well, good. It would be kind of awkward if you were working against me. Plus, you're an amazing fighter – it would be awesome to have you by my side".

"Hmmm. And then after…" he trailed a hand suggestively down her side and between her legs.

"Ohhhh. Stop. Please," she begged half-heartedly. "I'm not going to be able to walk tomorrow".

"Don't need you to walk. Need you in my bed". His fingers slipped inside her and she writhed.

"You are still so evil. Not fair," she moaned.

"You can't resist my sinister charms?" Spike purred, nipping at her neck.

"No. You've turned my brain to mush. I'm powerless against you," she giggled as slid back into her. "Ooohhh…"

And then it was even later, the pair of them cuddled together under the blankets, Spike brushing out the knots her hair had acquired. "Love this hair," he murmured to her, running his hands through the silky locks.

She twisted his ring on her finger as he stroked her tresses. "The Scoobies will learn to love you," she declared, giving voice to her concerns. At his snort she amended, "All right, accept you. But I think they might feel better if you weren't so… invulnerable. It's kind of scary, knowing there's no way to stop you if you do decide to turn evil again".

Spike lifted his head off the pillow and looked at her. "How 'bout this – I give you the ring. The Gem of Amarra. For now. And then, when I've proven myself, you can give it back to me".

She gazed at him in wonder. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"

"Don't want your friends nagging at you, don't want you feeling guilty for being in love with me. If this helps in some way… it's worth it. I've spent 120 years without the thing, a few weeks won't matter".

"You really do love me".

"How could you doubt it?"

She laughed. "When I'm with you - seeing you? Listening to you? Never. Thinking about it logically? Completely doubt it. It doesn't make any sense".

"The best things never do". He slid the ring off his finger and onto hers. "Take good care of this," he kissed the back of her hand.

She studied it. "I wonder if it would protect me too?"

"Don't think so, pet. Don't be taking any stupid chances to find out. Intend to be married a long time".

"You're such a sap. I married a sappy vampire".

Suddenly, Buffy clasped her hands to her head, her mind spinning and tilting in all directions. On the other side of the bed, Spike was doing the same, his face a mask of confusion. As quickly as the feeling began, it was over. Buffy scrabbled backwards, falling off the bed in her haste, her eyes bright and her face dismayed. Her mind felt lucid, clear, for the first time in hours.

Disbelievingly, she repeated, "I married a vampire? What the hell?" Her eyes narrowed and her expression became accusing. "What did you do to me Spike?" she enunciated dangerously.

"Me?" he retorted, affronted. "I didn't do anything to you, 'cept give you a hell of a time, which I didn't hear you complaining about a moment ago".

She shook her head savagely at him. "No. You did something to me. I felt it… I felt it wear off". The memories of the past several hours were still there, but slightly dim, as if a veil had been pulled between her and them. "Why else would I… Oh my god, what have I done?" she screeched, panicked, covering herself with her arms. "Clothes…" she muttered, "gotta find my clothes…"

* * *

Spike stared at her in confused dismay. Whatever it was, he had felt it too, but she thought _he_ had done it? Why the hell did she always assume the worst of him? And whatever it was (_spell?_), it wasn't that awful. He certainly hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.

Okay, well, maybe getting married was… ridiculously poncy and pathetically romantic. Not something he would have ever considered. Vampire, after all. Not really the marrying type. But still. He'd made up with Buffy. Spent an incredible night with her. Promised himself to her, which was a poofter thing to do, but he hadn't said anything he didn't mean. He wasn't exactly seeing the downside to this.

She was desperately tugging on her clothes, stumbling in her haste, muttering all the while. He grabbed her by the arm, halting her panicked behavior.

"Buffy. Stop. I didn't do any spell!"

"Oh really? Because it would be just like you," she snapped. At his baffled look she added, "Hello? Drusilla, last year, kidnapping Willow to do a love spell for you? Ringing any bells yet?"

Ah. Point in her favor. "I didn't do it though, did I?"

"Right. Because you decided to tie her up and torture her back into loving you instead. And you wonder why you and I just don't get along".

Why was she being such a bloody bitch? "Argh! I haven't done anything wrong! Can't you be reasonable for a minute?" She shook him off and went back to dressing. Still nude, Spike stood there, at a loss. "Why are you so upset?"

She glared at him. "Of course you wouldn't understand. You just got everything you wanted. But I'm not… This isn't what I wanted!"

"Even if it was a spell… is it so bad?" he asked softly, grabbing hold of her arm once more.

"Yes! Yes! I can't… I can't love you. I can't be with you. I can't _trust_ you. Without that… nothing else is possible". She tried to shake him off, but he wouldn't let go.

"But those things you said… you promised… made vows. You're my wife!" he said, torn between hope and dismay.

She laughed harshly. "Get real! As if I would marry you. You're a vampire, for crying out loud. Nothing but a killer. Obviously it was a spell of some kind. I didn't mean any of it".

His voice broke along with his heart. "None of it?" Face crumpling, he let go of her, pushing her roughly away. To have everything ripped away from him _again_. It was too much. He turned away so she wouldn't see his tears. "Fine. Go. Don't know why I keep believing you".

She gave a strangled sigh and touched his back hesitantly. "Spike… I care about you. I do. I wish I could give you… more… but it's not possible. You're too dangerous".

He whirled back around, eyes blazing. "I am not! I've made some mistakes, I know, but can't you see I've been trying?" he demanded.

She shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes trying isn't enough. Every time you make a mistake, it's on my conscience. Or I get hurt. I can't take wondering who might die because you lose control again".

"You said you loved me. Said so yourself," he moaned disconsolately, his eyes searching hers for something, _anything_. Any hint that she might have meant it.

She hesitated. "Spike… it was a spell. Or something. Nothing more. I'm still not convinced you had nothing to do with this. I can't trust you, and if I can't trust you, I can't love you".

"But you want to? Love me?"

Her voice got sharp, her eyes flinty. "I have feelings for you. But they're wrong. They're a disease. Stockholm syndrome. Bad, wrong feelings because you kidnapped me and hurt me and they're a… an adaptation for survival. _Nothing more_".

He didn't believe it. Not for a second. Maybe things started out that way, but Buffy loved him, he knew it. She'd said so. If he could just touch her, make love to her again, she'd remember how she felt only minutes ago. It wasn't a disease and it wasn't a spell. It was real.

He grasped her upper arms and pulled her to him, kissing her tenderly. She twisted in his grip and turned her head away. "Spike, no, get off". Despite her words, she looked so beautiful, smelled so wonderful, the combined scents of their pleasure rolling off of her, that he couldn't help but get hard again, his naked length rubbing against her clothed belly.

"Buffy, you have to admit that it's real. Maybe there was a spell, but it only set you free, uncovered your true feelings. I know what you want. There's something between us and it won't go away. Don't fight it". He tried to kiss her again, and when she resisted, he shook her, just a little. "Don't fight me!"

But she did, she fought back, shoving him away. "Don't touch me again, Spike," she warned, eyes blazing with emotion.

Oh no. Not what she meant at all. He slid towards her. "You can feel it, Buffy, what's between us. Heat and desire. Passion. Don't deny it".

"What, you want me to say you were good in bed? Fine. You were a good lay. Thanks for the swell time. It's over now," she bit off.

"Yeah, it was, bloody incredible. I knew. Knew the only thing better than killing a Slayer would be fucking one. But…" He circled around her and she circled too, warily watching him. "T'was more than just fucking, Buffy. You know it was. I love you. And you love me, even if you won't admit it". He stopped then, all his muscles taut, coiled, ready to spring. "You'll remember in a moment". He pounced on her, pinning her to the ground, and forced his mouth on hers, his tongue between her lips.

"No!" she cried. "Spike, stop! This is wrong!" She bucked against him, trying to force him off.

"No, baby it's not. It wasn't wrong before. You remember. How good I made you feel. How you love me".

The feel of her squirming beneath him was overwhelming, making him as hard as a rock. He needed to be inside of her, to show her how he loved her. Heedless of her cries he let go of her arms, wanting to remove her clothing, feel her soft flesh pressed against his. Suddenly he found himself hurtling backwards, smashing into the wall.

Buffy stood above him, fists poised, snarling in rage. Bloody hell, but she was glorious. "I said _NO!_" she spat.

The lust that had overtaken him receded as he realized what he'd done, realized he'd made it worse.

_Monster… _

"Buffy… I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly.

"Ask me again why I don't love you," she snarled, unforgiving. "There is. no. way. I can't trust you," she added, driving the point home. "You can't control yourself, and I pay the price". She began to stalk away.

"Please. Don't go," he whispered after her.

She whirled, standing in the doorway. "Don't come to Sunnydale, Spike. You will _never_ be welcome there".

"Buffy!"

She didn't stop. He got up to go after her, but the cold fury in her face when she turned back once more made him pause. Instead of apologizing again, his attitude got the better of him. "Can I at least get my ring back before you run off and pretend you're the injured party here?" he said with as much bravado as he could muster.

Buffy's face contorted in rage. She wrenched the ring off her finger and whipped it at him so hard he felt it dent his forehead. Before he could catch it, it rolled away, under the bed.

She was long gone by the time he found it. When he finally retrieved it from the corner it had rolled into, he let out a howl of anger and despair.

She hadn't given him back the Gem of Amarra. She'd given him back his skull ring.

Bloody bitch.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Buffy finally reached the bus station on the other side of town. She'd half expected Spike to come running after her, but he hadn't. _If he does, I'll be ready_ she thought, clutching the stake in her hand. No flight of terror this time. She'd walked, not run away from him, secure in the knowledge that she had all her strength _and_ his ring.

The fury ebbed as she sat and waited for the station to open. In its place she felt… guilty? She considered her feelings. She'd been sure he'd done a spell, and that certainty had fueled her harsh words to him, but he'd seemed so sincere in his vehement denials that she had to reconsider. And if he hadn't done a spell…

He had to be just as confused as she was.

The words she'd flung at him burned though her. She'd meant them, but… the way she'd said them had been harsh, cruel, and her heart ached at the recollection of his expression.

Buffy was sure Spike had meant every word of his vows to her, spell or not. When she'd rescinded hers, he'd looked as though she'd shattered his heart.

"Stupid vampire," she muttered, kicking at a rock. Even if she had been cruel, his actions after proved her point. She couldn't trust him because he couldn't control his demonic urges. As ridiculous as it sounded, she wasn't as angry as she should be at him for trying to force her. He'd explained to her only weeks ago that he could lose control, and that previous admission tempered her anger. He was… just being himself. It was who he was. It was why she couldn't love him. Marry him.

She snorted. Marrying a vampire. How preposterous. At least it hadn't been real, right? No judge, no minister, no witnesses, no living groom, and under the influence of… something. Nope, nothing binding about it.

Except… she had a feeling Spike wouldn't see it that way.

And it wasn't like he was wrong when he said the spell had set her free. There was a part of her that secretly wanted all she'd shared with him. No matter how untenable it was.

As the sun crept higher, Buffy almost returned to his place, to try for a re-do on the conversation, but then the station doors opened.

Instead she went inside and bought herself a ticket home.

* * *

"Hold on – she's here - Buffy!" Willow cried as soon as she opened the door to her dorm room, phone dangling from her hand. "Where have you been? We've been so worried about you!"

"I was… talking to Spike".

She could hear Xander's voice coming through the phone. "Spike? Ask her if she married him!"

Buffy frowned. Obviously they were more clued in than she was.

"You didn't, uh, by any chance, marry Spike while you were gone, did you?" Willow asked, her voice guilty.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. Willow gulped. "Xander, I'll call you back," she rushed, and hung up. "I might have messed up an itty bitty bit on a spell," she admitted in a tiny voice, her cheeks out-flaming her hair.

Buffy crossed to her bed and sat on it, sighing. "What's going on?"

"I did a spell to stop – stop the pain from Oz leaving. Except I kinda messed up, and I, um, made things I said come true by accident". Willow's voice had gotten smaller and smaller until Buffy could barely hear her.

"Go on," Buffy said wearily.

"Well… I told Giles he didn't see anything, and he went blind. You left to go talk to Spike after I told you to. I called Xander a demon magnet, and all these demons started chasing him. And then he remembered that I also said you should marry Spike. Just kidding, like, heh. We were hoping that part wasn't a… command".

Buffy held up her once again ring-free hand and showed her friend. No need to mention the ring that had briefly been there. Not like it had been a real wedding anyhow.

"Oh thank goodness," the redhead breathed in relief. "When D'Hoffran showed me what I had done -"

"D'Hoffran?"

"Um, Anya's old boss. Vengeance demon. Said I had the makings of a great vengeance demon and wanted to turn me into one. I declined, naturally. But I hadn't realized, you know, what I was doing, and he showed me the consequences in a magic mirror or vision or... _Buffy…_" Willow whispered. "_You and Spike were… in bed together_".

Ah. No chance of lying, then. Buffy's cheeks turned bright red. "Yes, well, we seemed to have, um. Reached some kind of understanding last night. About our feelings for each other. _But_," she added, "it was while we were under the spell. _Your_ spell. So, doesn't count, I guess".

"Sorry?" Willow squeaked contritely.

"We may be into a forgetting spell later".

"Was he that awful?"

Buffy gave her friend a sad smile. "No. He wasn't. That's the problem". She sighed. "I mean, there were moments when he was… Spike. Idiot vampire. _Vampire_". She didn't feel the need to explain more than that. "But, you know, you told me to go talk to him and sort things out, and all that happened is I'm more confused than ever". She shrugged helplessly. "I think he really is trying. He's sincere. Except he can't stop himself. Control himself. Maybe someday he'll be able to… in all fairness, he's only spent a few weeks trying to be not evil after 120 years of causing chaos and mayhem. But is that a valid excuse for all the people who get hurt or die in the meantime? By not stopping Spike, _I'm_ responsible for them. For their deaths".

"Even if… even if you were trying to stop him, can you? Since he has the ring?"

Buffy gave a small gasp. "Oh, you don't know!" Willow shook her head in confusion, and Buffy held out her hand. "Spike gave me the ring. Just gave it to me. So he could show you guys he was serious about earning our trust!"

"That's amazing!" Willow squealed. "So at least something good came out of all this, right?"

Nodding, Buffy said, "Yeah. I guess". Spike had wanted it back, but she hadn't given it to him. She'd purposely misunderstood what he wanted. Her gut twisted in guilt. It _was_ a good thing that she had the ring now, but… she felt like she'd tricked him into giving it to her. Her chest tightened. It just wasn't _fair_. Why couldn't her love life ever be simple?

_Not love life!_ she admonished herself. Just… life.

"Hey, Willow? I've gotta go… do something. I'll see you in a bit".

Willow frowned. "I'm sure Giles wants to -"

"I'll see him later. I have to do this now," she said, escaping. Buffy didn't want to… apologize… to Spike, exactly. But she needed to give him something. A crumb of some kind.

Why she felt guilty over hurting a vampire's feelings was beyond her, but she did.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Notes:**

I think it's safe to say, my mind took this chapter in a different direction than most of you are guessing... Hopefully that's good? Thank you for the kind words! And I feel the need to repeat - if you're expecting happy times, I am going to break your heart. More than once. I'm presuming if you're still here, that's what you want, but... being on this end of the comments is making me a nervous wreck! (Not that I don't want to hear any positive criticism - I do. As long as it's not flame-y!).

And, hey - I finished the story last night. Seventy-two chapters. OMG. It's like a freaking 800 page book. And the funny thing is? The ending I was working towards for the first 67 chapters went right out the window. So... now you know you're officially 1/3 of the way through the story.

Joss Whedon and his staff of writers are gods. My best dialogue comes from them. Thankfully, they don't mind it.

* * *

_'Dear Spike,'_

Buffy crossed it out. That sounded ridiculous.

_'Dear William,'_

She wasn't sure how she felt about writing to William, but starting a letter 'Dear Spike' was not the way to go. She chewed on the end of her pen, mulling over what she wanted to say. If she sent this today, it ought to get there by tomorrow. Spike had said he had the rent paid up for a month. Hopefully he would still be there for a few days, at least. She remembered the house number and the street name. Or she could send it through Willy. Either way, it should be easy to reach him.

Buffy couldn't go back and see him. It would be too confusing, being so close to Spike. A letter was better. More than better. She could get her thoughts down without distraction, and then send it off. Even if he took it as an invitation to immediately follow her to Sunnydale, it would still give her a few days to clear her head.

_'I'm sorry I accused you of doing a love spell on me. I found out it was'_

Hmm, better not say it was Willow. Spike might want revenge.

_'something that happened in Sunnydale that affected us both. It's been taken care of, though. Obviously._

_What happened while we were under the spell wasn't that awful. I just… overreacted. Parts of it were incredible, and I will never ever forget our night together. You've set some high standards.'_

Buffy squeezed her thighs together, blushing in remembrance. If only it had happened by her own free will… God, when he'd gotten behind her, doggie-style… she'd always thought it would be degrading… with her hands clenching the headboard, head on the pillow, ass in the air, Spike gripping her hips and ramming into her from behind while his balls slapped into her... it should have been degrading. But. _Fuck_. She'd never come so hard in her life, and Spike had given her some damn fine orgasms in their short time together. She almost abandoned her note, feeling the need for relief, but forced herself back to it. The letter needed to go out today.

_'Even if I could have said things better, I still meant most of it. There can't be an us. I could never be your wife, or even your girl. However, I would still like to be your friend. You've made some mistakes, but I have to give you credit for trying. Maybe you just need more time. Practice. To control yourself. _

Giles would think she'd gone insane, but Spike was right. She _had_ promised to help him. Believe in him. Now that she understood that he was sincere, that he hadn't been toying with her but had only… lost control… she felt like she should honor her promises. At least to a point. She would give him the benefit of the doubt. Let him prove himself.

_If you can do better – keep from hurting or killing people – come back to Sunnydale. Just not for awhile yet. Give it some time, okay? Until you're sure you're in control. I don't want to have to stake you, but I will. It's my job._

_On the subject of control, that means around me too. When I say no, it means no. You kept from forcing yourself on me before. In New York. I believe in you, Spike. As crazy as it is, I think you can do this._

_I'll keep the ring safe for you.'_

She chewed on the pen some more. How to end it? Certainly not 'love'. 'Sincerely' sounded lame. 'Yours' was no good either. She wouldn't be his. In the end, she just went with,

_'Buffy'_

She read it through once more. She thought it struck the right tone – supportive, slightly apologetic, firm. After addressing an envelope, she took it straight to the post office and sent it off.

* * *

Two weeks later, a small package came in the mail. Opening the letter inside, she read,

_"I meant every single word of my vows. I love you. Merry Christmas. Your husband always, William Pratt"._

Gah. He was such a freak. Holding her breath in anticipation, she opened the small box included in the package. It held a delicate platinum gold ring with intricate carvings. Peering closely at the design, Buffy realized it was a tiny skull that matched the one on the ring he'd originally given her. On the inside of the band, in characters so small she could barely read them, were their initials and a date. The date of their 'wedding'. She swallowed. How could an evil vampire be one of the most romantic men she'd ever met?

Gazing at the ring on her palm, Buffy deliberated. She didn't consider herself married. Nope, no way, no how. On the other hand, she did care about Spike, she couldn't deny it, and he'd clearly gone to a lot of effort to have this ring specially made. Would putting it on imply they had a relationship? Obviously. Well, then.

She could put it in her jewelry box, along with the Claddagh ring Angel had given her. At this rate she'd soon have a whole collection of rings given to her by vampire suitors. Buffy felt she was remarkably well-adjusted, considering the life she led.

In a burst of fortitude she slid the ring on, only on the opposite hand from where it was supposed to go. Spike had earned that much, at least.

It was a perfect fit, naturally. Buffy admired her hand, Spike's ring on her ring finger, Gem of Amarra on the middle one – the safest place she could think of for it. A few weeks ago, she would have given the ring to Angel without a moment's hesitation. Now, the idea of Angelus having possession of the Gem of Amarra made her shudder in a way that the thought of Spike possessing it never did. Funny how things changed.

* * *

"What _are_ you?"

Buffy eyed Riley, sitting across from her in a deserted classroom. She hadn't seen him much since the end of the previous semester, since she was no longer in Professor Walsh's class, only occasionally running into him around campus. But last night, they'd somehow ended up working together to stop the Gentlemen. Because Riley was one of the commandos. Great.

"Capricorn. On the cusp of Aquarius. You?" she retorted snarkily.

"Sorry. Came out a little blunter than I intended. It's just… You're amazing! Your speed – your strength…" he said excitedly.

"Also passionate, artistic, and inquisitive," she responded facetiously. "Who are _you_?"

"You know who I am. But what I do… I can't tell you," Riley hedged.

Buffy proceeded to tell Riley just how much she had guessed about who he was and what he did. She'd run into a vampire one night who'd begged her not to stake him, claiming he'd escaped from some military guys who had put a chip in his head, preventing him from attacking anybody. She'd staked him anyhow, but she and Giles had come up with a theory. One that Riley was now confirming with his words, and even more so with his silences.

The amazing thing was, for somebody whose job involved demon hunting, Riley had never heard of her. Of the Slayer. She couldn't be bothered to fill him in.

"Look, Riley, I get that what you do is supposed to be hush-hush, because I'm all with the secret identity too. But if we're after the same guys, we're going to be running into each other a lot. Just make sure you keep your soldiers out of my way, okay? This is my town you're in. You have no idea what I've dealt with over the last four years".

He stared at her. "So when you said your life was too crazy for dating, I'm guessing this is what you meant?"

_Sure, that, and I'm trying to not fall in love with a notoriously evil century-old vampire who single-handedly slaughtered a dozen of your men. Who also may or may not have become my husband since the last time I talked to you._

"Yup. That's it. Dating and slaying are not mixy things".

"You know, this gives us something in common now. Secret identities, demon hunting…"

"High probability of dying young… Riley. This is not just a gig for me. It's my destiny. Sacred calling. I live and breathe slaying, but I'm trying to fit in as much normality as I can too. Like college. And between the two, I have, like, zero time". She gave him a regretful smile.

"Yeah, I get it. The answer is still no. I'll see you around".

Buffy watched him walk out. She truly did regret telling him no. Riley seemed solid and dependable, qualities she admired in a man. A living, breathing, non-evil type of man. He was definitely growing on her. But there was still… Spike to deal with. She couldn't, wouldn't think of him as her husband, or even her boyfriend. The problem was, no matter how she tried to rationalize her attraction to him, it wouldn't go away. So no dating for her, not until she sorted things out with her vampire.

Meaning never, at this rate.

* * *

The day after he showed up at the old high school, helping her to avert the latest apocalypse and close the Hellmouth, Buffy ran into Riley again. "Hey! Buffy! How are you?" he asked agitatedly.

"Um. Good. You?"

"Great!" He pulled her aside. "Can I talk to you? I have a question that I was hoping you could answer". Soon they were at the Lowell House, and Riley was showing her to his room.

She looked around and admired his place. Very masculine, very all-American. Very much the room of a normal-ish warm-blooded male.

He began with a huge sigh. "I'm a dead man. Secret. Highly. Or, it's supposed to be. Then you find out, I can deal. You're special. But last night, with your friends, was a disaster. I mean, could I have been less convincing? I was trained to be sneaky and stuff and I'm… I'm finished".

Buffy gave him a reassuring smile. "Look, we're used to dealing with secret. Willow and Xander are cool. They won't tell. Besides, who would believe them? People in Sunnydale have the most amazing ability to completely ignore the obvious".

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Riley sighed again. "You think so?"

"I know so". She got up to leave, put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, okay?" With a little laugh, she added, "I'm sure I'll see you soon".

He placed his hand over hers. "Don't go yet. Just. Stay? Talk a bit? I want to know more about you. About what you do".

She hesitated, then figured what the hell. He already knew her secret, didn't he? So she stayed, and told him about her nightly patrols, her training, some of the bigger battles and demons she'd faced, while glossing over other things, especially Angel and Spike. Riley listened raptly.

"And here I thought helping you to save the world was a big week for you, but come to find out it's only an average day. Just think!" he said after she'd finished. "Think what we could accomplish with you on our team – and us on yours! You wouldn't have to do it alone anymore".

"I'm not alone," she corrected him. "Xander and Willow have been by my side since day one. And Giles is the most amazing mentor. We've managed quite well, alone. World hasn't ended yet".

"Still. Consider coming in, seeing what we do. Maybe joining our patrols".

Biting her lip in worry, Buffy said, "I'll talk to Giles. See what he thinks. But – don't be telling your Initiative about me until I give the say-so. I don't want to become one of your subjects for experimentation".

Riley frowned at her. "Maggie would never do that. You're human".

"Human. But not exactly normal. I'm not big with the trust when it comes to groups I don't know. There's always an angle".

"No angle. We just want what you want – to make the world safer for humans".

"Hmmm," she prevaricated, unsure, and looked at her watch. "I hate to be rude, but I have class soon. I'll get back to you, okay?"

Riley nodded. "Sure. Hey, before you go, I wanted to ask– you ever run into a vampire that can't be killed? The usual ways?"

She twisted the Gem of Amarra nervously. "Yeah - Don't mess with him. Spike. He's mine. Leave him alone".

He grimaced at her. "Don't think we can. He took out twelve of my men. An animal like that needs to be put down".

Buffy blanched. Without the ring, Spike was unprotected, vulnerable to the Initiative. "NO! He's – You attacked _him_! He was just fighting back!"

Riley grew very still. "Is there something you're not telling me? About this hostile?"

"Spike… he's dangerous. He's not like other vampires. And we have unfinished business, he and I. So I'm asking you. Please. Leave him to me".

He laughed uncomfortably. "Oh. For a minute there I thought you were protecting a vampire".

Swallowing, Buffy said, "Nope! No protecting. It's just… personal".

"Well it is for me too," he answered ruthlessly. "He took out some of my best men".

"Leave him alone, Riley," she said wearily as she headed out the door. "I promise it'll be better that way".

* * *

On her birthday, when a knock sounded on the dorm door in the morning, Buffy opened it to find a deliveryman with a huge bouquet of flowers. The card read '_Happy Birthday, Love William_'_._ Buffy smiled and put the bouquet on her desk, tucking the note away in a safe place.

* * *

Panicking, Buffy searched Giles' apartment along with the others, but there was no sign of her father-figure – only evidence that he too had been visited by Xander's early morning demon.

"Okay. There's a demon and Giles is gone. But it doesn't mean that he's hurt. I mean, there's no blood anywhere so maybe the demon just took him somewhere?"

Anya held up Giles' ripped shirt. "I think the demon ate him up".

Not good. Buffy marched to the books. "Xander, let's identify this demon so I can kick its ass".

They'd been looking through the books for quite awhile when Riley showed up, following up on a 9-1-1 call. While there, he received a call concerning a demon that had attacked Maggie Walsh, and Buffy was surprised to hear that the demon had been travelling in a small, gray Citroen.

"It stole Giles' car!" Willow exclaimed.

"Why would a demon steal a car?" Xander wondered.

"Why would a demon steal _that_ car?" Anya added.

Actually, that piece of information helped. Fyarls didn't sound much like thinkers, and stealing a car obviously involved thinking of some sort. This Fyarl had to be controlled by someone, Buffy figured. She explained her reasoning to the others and headed to the Magic Shop with Riley, hoping to find out who might have done this to Giles.

As their hunt progressed, she decided it was nice to have Riley along. He was strong and smart, and his access to the Initiative allowed them to quickly find that bastard, Ethan Rayne. She gave him a grateful smile as he relayed Ethan's location to her. "This _is_ kinda nice, working together. It would have taken me a lot longer to find him".

"Glad to be of service," he smiled back, then got serious. "Look, I have orders to bring the demon in. Are we going to be at cross-purposes when we find it?"

Her face hardened. "This demon did something to Giles and I'm gonna kill it. You want to stop me, you're going to have to call out the troops".

Riley waited a beat, then said, "Alright. I get the feeling it would be a bad idea to get in your way".

She laughed delightedly. "I like you Riley Finn. You're a fast learner". He gave her a brilliant smile as he opened the passenger door of his SUV for her.

Buffy was even happier to have Riley's help after the Fyarl demon turned out to be Giles. Ethan mockingly asked her what the Slayer was going to do to stop him since he was human, and Buffy was at a loss. Besides a really good ass-kicking, what _could_ she do? Agent Finn saved the day once more, sending for a couple of MPs to come and arrest Ethan Rayne.

She turned to Riley once they'd left. "And you just get more and more useful. I'm thinking I might like to work with your Initiative after all".

"You serious?"

"Yeah. Take me to your leader, Agent Finn".

"This is going to be great, Buffy, you'll see. Maggie will love you".


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for all the reviews!

I've been rereading Eurydice's stories lately... ah, how I wish I could write that well.

I don't really dislike any character (except for Kennedy), so I try to write them as they were presented on the show - human, but with human weaknesses. That means you won't be seeing any blatant Riley-bashing. I'm just mentioning it because I've picked up the idea that some readers might be a little more... biased... than I am about the poor guy. :)

* * *

Spike whistled cheerfully as he strode through the cemetery. He was back in Sunnydale, the home of the Slayer. His wife. Whom he was hoping to run into out on patrol. It'd be fun to dance a little with her, fight for a bit. Like old times. Spike sighed nostalgically, and brightened. Maybe a good rough and tumble would lead to a good… rough and tumble.

Sure, she'd told him off, said she wasn't his girl. It hadn't been pretty, the way they'd parted. But she'd spared his un-life, not staked him when she could have. When she probably _should_ have, considering the way he'd treated her, although in all fairness he hadn't intended it to come off the way it had.

It wasn't so much that he minded an unwilling woman – just the thought of one struggling beneath him, heart thundering in fear, set his dick to twitching. No, what he minded was an unwilling _Buffy_. What he minded was Buffy looking at him the way she had after. As if he was nothing more than a monster.

She must have understood, though, must have realized he hadn't intended to force himself on her. Instead of a dusty ending, she'd sent him a letter to apologize for having doubted him. For having been such a bitch.

Spike had high hopes for a happy reunion.

Especially since he'd kept his nose clean for weeks now. Practiced, just like she'd asked him to. He paused to lean up against the wall of a crypt while he lit a smoke. He inhaled deeply, watching a Fyarl demon wrapped in a blanket lumber by. Thing looked like it needed to be put out of its misery.

"Well. What do I spy with my little eye? A demon. That would be… oh, right. One of the things the Slayer wouldn't mind if I killed".

The demon paused and looked at him. "Spike," it said, and not in the usual growly way of a Fyarl. "You're back in town. Wonderful. The perfect end to a perfect day".

Spike frowned. This was not your average Fyarl. In fact, he could have sworn… "Watcher?"

The Fyarl raised its fists. "Go on, then. Let's get on with the fighting – You understand me?" he said, surprised.

"Of course I understand you".

"I'm speaking English?" the Fyarl, whom Spike was now positive was the Watcher, asked hopefully. Git.

"No, you're speaking Fyarl. I happen to speak Fyarl. Know it's been a few years since I've seen you, mate, but don't recollect you being a demon before".

"Yes, well, I seem to be having a bit of a bad day".

Spike took a deep drag off his cigarette, tossed it away. "What, you just come over all demon-y this morning?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Chap by the name of Ethan Rayne – oh piffle, why am I having a conversation with you? Why are you here?"

"Come to see the Slayer. Thought she might miss me". As the Watcher made to retort, Spike cut him off. "Look, you need help or what?" he offered. He wasn't sure he wanted to help Giles, in fact he was rather considering killing him. Bloke clearly wasn't in Spike's camp, and it would be easier to win Buffy over without him around. He had the perfect excuse too – after all, Slayer couldn't fault a fella for killing a Fyarl, could she?

He thought he might win more points with her this way, though. Save the Watcher, earn a little trust all around. Seemed like a good idea.

As amusing as watching a Fyarl's face thinking things through was, Spike was getting impatient with waiting for Giles to make a decision.

"Right, I'll just nip off and find the Slayer then".

"Wait. Help me find Ethan Rayne. He needs to undo this and then he needs – a good being killed," the Watcher finished in a growl. Now that seemed more like it.

"Right. What's first?"

Giles suggested they go to the bar where he and the other bloke had hung out the night before, see if they could get the waitress to cough up the phone number the tosser had given her.

Spike wanted to get his car, but the demon beside him insisted on taking his little tin can. Whatever. Probably better to keep a creature with mucous like that out of his DeSoto anyhow. Watcher's car drove like shit, though, and Spike felt like a right prat driving the thing. He hoped no one he knew saw him. Wouldn't do much for his rep. Having the Watcher yell at him in Fyarl about how to shift the damn thing didn't help his mood either. Spike'd been driving before the old sod was even a twinkle in his bastard father's eye. He knew how to shift. It wasn't his fault the car was utter crap.

"Calm down, will you?" he snarled as the Watcher growled angrily at him to down shift.

"I'm not sure I can. Feel like I'm changing... I really like this feeling. Sort of mindless need to destroy. This anger and rage".

Hmm. Could get the old man on his side. He knew now what it was like, being a demon. How hard it was to control. "Good times. Go with it".

"No!" Bloke sounded almost normal again. Damn.

"Oh, it's fun. I can't let myself go like I used to, Buffy wouldn't like it. Do it for me. Let yourself go".

"I refuse to become a monster because I look like a monster. I have a soul. I have a conscience. I am a human being. Oh, is that Ethan? Stop the car".

Spike did, and Giles clambered out, lumbering down the street, sending some bird screaming and running in terror. Spike chortled, wishing he'd been in on the fun. The Watcher came back.

"Never mind, not him. Let's go".

At the bar, he chatted up the waitress, got the information they needed, and they headed for the motel on the edge of town, Giles growling lowly.

"How you feeling, mate?"

"Like snapping necks until everyone is dead".

Fantastic. If Buffy could see her Watcher now, she'd realize just how much control Spike had, how good he was being, all things considered. He contemplated going to find her instead of this Ethan bloke, at the same time encouraging Giles' violence with, "Now that sounds like a Fyarl demon. Good for you".

A set of bright lights suddenly shone in the rearview mirror, quickly bearing down on them. Looked like a Humvee, and Spike recalled the toy soldiers. He wasn't interested in meeting up with them again.

"Looks like we've picked up a tail. Military vehicle". A second Humvee rolled up in front of them. "And it's got a friend". Spike weighed his options. Without the ring, he wasn't quite as immune to their methods as before. And the military boys were probably out for blood. His blood.

He could abandon the Watcher to them, save his own hide. An image of a grieving Buffy flashed through his mind and he sighed. Bloody hell, but this white hat stuff was a real pain in the arse. "Right. We're near the motel now. I'll shake them off around the next corner, you jump out and run for it. They'll keep after me".

"Very good. And I can crush Ethan's bones," his passenger growled.

"That's right, mate, you go do that. Kill, kill, kill. Great fun". Careening violently around the corner, he shoved the Fyarl out. "Get to it".

Spying a narrow alley, Spike swerved into it, leaving the wider Humvees stuck at the entrance. He abandoned the car in the middle of the alley and dropped into the sewer through a manhole. Buggers would never find him now

Whistling jauntily once more, the vampire set off in search of his bride.

* * *

"So you say Spike saved you?" Buffy said to Giles later.

"Yes, once again. He saved me. You act as though you are surprised, yet you are the one who insists to me daily that you believe we should give him a chance. Allow him to try for redemption".

"I know… it's just. Well, it's Spike. I want to believe in him, but it's kinda hard".

"Trust me, Buffy, I understand the sentiment more than you will ever know. I must admit, however, having been a demon myself, no matter how briefly, curtailing the resultant demonic urges is easier said than done. My esteem for Spike has risen accordingly".

"Do all those big words mean that mean you're willing to give him a chance?"

"In light of his recent actions and… mine… yes. I will give him the opportunity to prove himself. I must have your word that you will not hesitate to do your duty should the need arise, however".

"Oh, I'm duty-bound where he's concerned, trust me. He's gotten the memo".

"Very well. And while we're on the subject of trust, I realize that this… Riley is it?" At Buffy's nod, he continued. "This Riley has proven himself quite useful, despite being one of these mysterious commandos. I understand that you like this boy and feel he is trust-worthy, but may I remind you that we know nothing about the Initiative or its motives, other than what he has told you. I'm not sure it's wise to place yourself at their disposal".

"Well, think of it this way. What better way to get the inside scoop than being inside the scoop? At least now we'll know what's really going on".

"I suppose you're right. But please, be careful. If what Ethan has suggested is even remotely true, this organization is far more sinister than you are being led to believe".

"I'll be caution-girl, don't you worry".

* * *

It was the next night before Spike found Buffy, out on patrol. He attempted to sneak up behind her but she whirled, stake ready, then dropped it as she realized who he was, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly instead. Spike hugged her back, nose buried in her hair. "What's this then? Happy to see me, luv?"

"I was worried about you", she mumbled into his chest. "When I couldn't find you. Giles said he didn't know if you'd escaped the commandos, and I had no idea where to look for you".

He tipped her chin up and smiled at her. "I'm here, luv. Safe and sound". His lips ached to meet hers, but he didn't know how she'd react to a kiss. She was unpredictable like that.

When she stepped back from him, composure regained, he regretted not taking the chance.

"Thanks," she told him, and he could hear the gratitude in her voice.

Wanting to hear her say it out loud, he asked, "For what?"

"For helping Giles. That was… that was more than just giving up evil. That was being good".

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to make a habit of it," he scoffed, hiding his pleasure at her praise behind bravado. "Just didn't want to hear you crying over the old sod".

Buffy cut him off with a kiss on his cheek. "Really. Thanks".

Spike knew his expression was giving him away, but he couldn't help it. The little chit owned his heart. "You're welcome," he rumbled, brushing his lips against hers. "Anything for my wife".

"Spi-i-i-ke," she groaned. "Don't start that. Please. We can't be more than friends. You know that".

"Friends that kiss?" he asked saucily.

She punched him in the shoulder. "No". He grabbed her hand, examined it.

"Well, look what we have here. Think this is the wrong hand," he smirked, pointing to the ring he'd given her, hope flaring up.

"That's the friend hand," Buffy said firmly. "And thanks. It's beautiful".

He let it drop. She'd given him more than he'd dared hope for so far. No need to bollix it up by being too pushy. "And my other ring? Do I get it back yet?"

Twining her fingers in his, Buffy began walking though the cemetery, pulling him along. "I… I hate worrying that you're vulnerable. Especially since I know those commandos are after you. But I hate worrying more that you're not. Know what I mean?"

"'Ve spent enough time with you now that I am able to suss out what you mean on occasion. Keep the ring then. Those military tossers are no match for me".

"I'm serious, Spike. They've got it in for you. Stay out of their way".

His heart soared. She was worried about him. "How 'bout I stay with you? Let you… protect me?" he asked, tongue curled naughtily, hoping she would agree. He could think of all kinds of things to do while she was 'protecting' him.

She gave him a fondly exasperated look. "No deal bleach-boy. Where _are_ you staying?"

"Crypt," he admitted sheepishly. "Found a decent one in another cemetery".

"Freaky vampire," she teased.

"Yeah, well. You're the one who took my bloody ring away. Can't pretend to be all human-like without it, can I?" he muttered sullenly. He missed going out in the sun, spending the day like a regular man, much as he would never admit it.

A newly risen vampire caught Buffy's attention momentarily. "Hi. Welcome to your unlife. Sorry it's so short," she quipped, plunging her stake in. Spike winced in sympathy.

"So. I'm here, in Sunnydale," he reminded her as the dust settled. "What now?"

She touched his cheek and he leaned into it. "Let's… let's just see, okay?"

It was enough. For now. "Goodnight, luv. Sleep well".

Smiling softly, Buffy said, "Night Spike. See you," and left him standing there, staring foolishly after her like a schoolboy with his first crush.

* * *

Buffy's visit to the Initiative complex was overwhelming, but Riley stayed by her side, proudly showing off his real work. When Professor Walsh had first greeted her in the gleaming facility, Buffy hadn't been sure whether to salute or find a seat and take notes. She settled for a handshake.

"So… the Slayer. Is real. And was sitting in my class all last semester. Or, well, at least most of last semester. Your absences make more sense now that I realize your energies were directed elsewhere". She looked Buffy over. "I would like to see more of what you can do. Test your abilities. I find it interesting that we use the latest in scientific technology and state-of-the-art weaponry while you – if I understand this correctly – poke the hostiles with a sharp stick".

"It's more effective than it sounds?" Buffy offered.

"I'm sure that it is. As I'm just as sure that we can learn much from each other. I'll work on getting some training exercises to go through with Agent Finn in a day or two".

* * *

"See, she loved you," Riley said later as he patrolled with her.

"We didn't do anything but talk. There was nothing to love".

He stopped walking and took her hand. "I think there might be lots to love".

"We're not talking about Professor Walsh anymore, are we," Buffy replied uneasily, slipping her hand out of his.

"Look, I… I can't help but think that this is fate. You're the most amazing girl I've ever met, and then you turn out to be somebody – somebody I can share my real life with. Do you know how incredible that is?"

She grabbed his arm and quickly marched him away, away from the crypt that Spike was squatting on top of, watching them. She could hear the vampire growling and was surprised Riley hadn't.

If she'd never been kidnapped by Spike, Buffy felt sure she'd be dating Riley. She was attracted to him, attracted to the _normality_ he exuded, she couldn't deny it. But… things were what they were. She had feelings for Spike that she couldn't seem to shake, no matter how much she wanted to. So. She had to end this thing with the soldier before it began.

"Riley. I like you. I really do. And maybe under different circumstances… but right now, you and me – it's not going to happen". She glanced sideways, made sure Spike had remained where he was, and lowered her voice. "Can we stick to friends? And if things ever change for me, I'll let you know?"

He looked down at her, confusion warring with disappointment. "I don't understand. I feel like there's something between us, but you keep pushing me away. Is there somebody else?"

"No! Nobody else!" she rushed. "Just… bad break-up. Bad timing. Bad… a lot of things. I'm not date material right now. Okay?"

"I'm willing to wait. Until you're ready, Buffy. I have the feeling you're worth it".

She gave him a bashful smile, his sweet words melting her heart just a little more. "You're something else, Riley Finn. I'll see tomorrow afternoon".

Understanding he was being dismissed, Riley left. Buffy watched him until he was gone, then turned to Spike, who was now lurking on the other side of the tree behind her, smoking furiously.

"The stalker routine is going to get old in a hurry".

Spike moodily ground his cigarette out. "Not stalking. Watching my sodding wife make googly-eyes at another man. A man who happens to be my bloody enemy. Should've finished him off before".

"See – making death threats against my friends? Not earning you any points".

"He's not your friend, Buffy," Spike spat. "He wants more. He wants what's _mine_".

Throwing up her hands, she yelled, "Argh! For the last time! I am not _yours_!"

With a visible effort, Spike schooled his face into neutrality and stepped away from her. "Right. Just friends. That's all you are to anybody. Angel, me, Captain Cardboard. Keep us all dangling along on your strings".

"That's not fair," she said lowly. "I'm not dangling you along. I've told you, you and I can never be more than friends. And with you, even friends is pushing it".

Spike cocked his head, watching her. "Is it working? You convince yourself yet? 'Cause you're right, you and I will never be _just_ friends".

Pinching the bridge of her nose to fend off the encroaching headache, she retorted, "I can't deal with this. I'm leaving now," and began to walk away. No matter what he thought, Spike had no right to stalk her or get angry if she hung out with another guy.

Running ahead to cut her off, he flung at her, "Fine. You want to date some other bloke, go ahead. See if some other wanker can give you what you need. But why _him_? Why one of the sodding soldiers?"

The headache was definitely here to stay. "Look. I'm not dating him. You _heard_ me tell him no. And I know he's got it out for you. I'm keeping my eye on him. On this whole military Initiative thing. He's bringing me into their operations, and I need this opportunity. Need to see what they're doing. So can we let it go?"

"No," he growled. "Not so long as I can see that you're interested in him. As more than a friend".

Why did he have to be so stubborn? "You know what? I _do_ like Riley. He's nice to me. Treats me well. Is sweet and _normal_ and _not_ a soulless vampire. If it weren't for you screwing my life up, I'd be dating him right now".

Spike barked out a mirthless, hurt laugh. "You're a cold bitch," he muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head.

Buffy glared daggers at him. "And you're an asshole".

He drew himself up and loomed over her, backing her up against a nearby crypt. "Don't think White Bread could satisfy you, sweetheart. You need a little monster in your man".

"I do not!"

He put his hands on either side of her, blocking her in. "You do. Admit it. Vampires get you hot".

Feeling trapped, Buffy lashed out, punching him in the face. "One. One vampire got me hot. You… you're just… a disease," she snarled out as he flew backwards and landed on his back, clutching his bleeding nose. It was her turn to loom over him as he lay there. "Stockholm syndrome. That's all this is. If I were in my right mind, I would feel nothing but loathing and disgust for you".

Springing to his feet, Spike threatened, "If you don't quit being such a bloody bitch, maybe I'll bite you".

"I'd like to see you try," she scoffed, spinning into a kick that laid him out flat again. He grabbed her ankle and flipped her over, then pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. She bucked him off and they both sprang to their feet, a whirlwind of kicks and punches that mere mortal eyes would be unable to follow.

Panting, Buffy taunted, "You're going down. Without your ring, you can't take me, Spike. Let's face it. I'm better than you".

"Maybe at some things, luv, but I'm fairly certain I can… take… you if I want" he replied, oozing sex, and her legs trembled. Ignoring them, she launched herself at him again, and they ranged over the cemetery once more, trading blows.

"Come on, Slayer, give it to me. Give it to me good," he purred, beckoning her to come at him with crooked fingers while biting his lip, his face alight with the joy of battle. Buffy could feel her own lips grinning in response. God, but this was fun. He was no lame fledgling, dead before she'd even begun. As the battle raged on, her blood sang, and wetness pooled between her legs, matching the lust she saw in his darkened eyes.

Finally, she got in a kick that sent him sprawling, and she straddled him, stake at his heart. "I win," she whispered, thighs pinning his hips beneath her.

"You do," he answered in a choked voice, shifting slightly so she sank farther down onto him, the bulge in his jeans nudging into her. They stared at each other for a long time, breathing heavily, his blue eyes boring into her with naked intensity. "What now? You gonna dust me?" Spike asked softly.

With a hard swallow and a shake of her head, Buffy climbed off of him. "I go home. Got a test tomorrow. You go do whatever it is you do".

He sat up, wrists dangling loosely on his knees. "Want to see my place? 'Ve been fixing it up".

"I'm serious…" she began.

"Just… please? Want your opinion. That's it".

She extended her hand to him, helped him up, peered into his face. "Are you in control?" she asked seriously. "Because I want to be clear. I'm saying no. To whatever it is you're imagining, the answer is no".

Smiling crookedly, he said, "Read you loud and clear, Slayer. No funny stuff. Just a home tour".

"Well then, lead on Martha Stewart".

(_Isn't that Riley's girl?_

_Don't think she's his girl, Graham. But yeah, that's Buffy._

_I thought she was supposed to be some kind of slayer or something. Doesn't look like she's slaying him._

_No, she sure doesn't. Looks more like she's about to go make hot monkey sex with him. And that's the hostile that took out our men._

_What the fuck, Forrest? Think she's a hostile too?_

_I sure as hell think something stinks about her. What d'you suppose, should we tell Riley about this?_

_Negative. Let's report to Walsh, see what she says. Riley doesn't need to know the girl he's in love with is a vampire whore._)


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Notes: **I love the reviews and predictions!

Thank you to all those wonderful Buffy scriptwriters from whom I have borrowed dialogue.

* * *

"Lights!" Maggie Walsh called out, and several Humvees lit the night with their headlamps. "Took a patrol team 42 minutes to track you and you neutralized them in 28 seconds. Impressive".

"I was lucky," Buffy said modestly, and Walsh gazed at her until she fidgeted.

"Yes, well. Still. You're a very dangerous opponent, Miss Summers".

"Only to the bad guys," she replied nervously.

Forrest and Graham were pulling off their masks, and Forrest muttered, "Just who are the bad guys to her?"

Riley pulled off his own mask and gave Forrest a fierce look. "Good job, Buffy. It's going to be so exciting having you on our team". He took her hand with a smile. "Come on, I think we need to celebrate".

She squirmed. "I was supposed to meet Willow and Xander at the Bronze".

"Perfect! We'll all go! Right guys?"

She felt awkward when Riley's friends gave a less-than-enthusiastic agreement, but chalked it up to them being upset a girl had kicked their asses so thoroughly. She smiled at them all. "Well, alright. Thanks!"

* * *

Buffy looked up and saw Spike watching her from the shadows of the balcony. "I need to use the restroom," she excused herself, and snuck upstairs.

"Stalker routine. Old," she told the vampire. "Plus, do you have a death wish? There's a whole team of commandos downstairs".

"'Ve got you to protect me". She sighed in exasperation, and he wheedled, "Send the tin soldiers home, luv. Be with me instead".

"Still wouldn't be with you. The rest of the gang is down there".

"I can hang out with them. Be a Scooby. I promise I'll be on my best behavior. 'Sides, think I owe you a night of dancing, pet".

"You're hopeless".

"Just want to be with you" he replied, pulling her to him, and she couldn't help but get lost in his eyes.

Those expressive blue eyes. Stupid Stockholm syndrome, making her remember… everything, when she looked into those eyes. Every bit of poetry, every declaration of love, every _change_ he had seemed to make for her between California and New York. Every word of the wedding vows that he had sworn he would honor 'til he was dust.

"I'm not promising anything. But… if they leave, I'll dance with you".

"Good girl," he smiled down at her.

"Hopeless," she repeated with an eye roll.

She pulled Riley aside when she returned to the table. "Hey, I don't want to be rude, but…" Just then Riley's pager beeped, and she could hear the others' beeping as well.

"Sorry, Buffy, we've got to go". He put a hand on her shoulder. "Soon as the paperwork goes through, you'll get to go with us on a mission".

She frowned at him. "Um, it's kinda my job, whether your government toadies officially okay me or not".

Squeezing her shoulder he said, "Don't worry, we've got this one. Have a night off," and he followed the others out.

She made to go after him, but a pair of cool hands on her waist held her back. "Thought they'd never leave," Spike breathed in her ear.

Twisting, she complained, "They're taking my job away!"

Spike led her back to the table. "Let them. Maybe whatever buggerboo is out there will kill them". She frowned at him.

Xander and Anya had rejoined Willow at the table. "What's this?" Xander asked. "We traded the commandos of indeterminate evilness for the vampire of indeterminate evilness?"

Spike caught Buffy giving Xander a small head shake and he smiled broadly. "I get to be a Scooby. Buffy here promised me".

"No, I didn't promise. I said you could try".

Anya spoke up. "So are we really safe from you? Or are you still plotting something evil and we'll all wake up dead one day?"

Spike leaned in and gave her a wicked grin. "Oh, I'm always plotting". He leaned back casually, hands laced between his head. "But. Evil is relative, innit? I've turned over a new leaf. Joined the team, so to speak. Means I only imagine your violent demise nowadays".

Buffy turned her glare on him. "You said you'd play nice".

"What?" he asked, affronted. "This _is_ nice!"

"And I thought pet vamp Angel was bad," Xander muttered under his breath.

"So, Buffy," Willow changed the subject. "Have we learned anything about the Initiative yet? Or about 314?"

"Not much. I asked some questions, but I get the feeling they don't take kindly to independent inquiries. All the others ever say is 'yes sir, no sir'. I have to wait on paperwork before I get more classified info. Yay".

"I guess it's better than the Council, at least. They never told you anything," Willow said.

"Yeah. _And_ they tried to kill you off last year. So the Initiative is a step up so far," Xander added.

"What about you, Spike," Anya asked. "Have you heard anything about them?"

"Not so much. Wankers keep a low profile".

They all sat and reflected. When the band swung into a new song, Anya said, "Oh, I like this one! Take me to dance, Xander".

Spike looked at Buffy with a raised eyebrow. She shook her head and nodded at Willow, indicating she'd be alone. "Ah, Red. Would you like to dance?" he offered politely. Both girls stared at him, surprised.

Willow snuck a look at her friend, who gave a small shrug. "Um, no, I'm okay. But, thank you for offering. You go ahead with Buffy".

He stood up and shrugged his coat off, then held his hand out to Buffy. She took it, following him onto the dance floor. "I still can't believe you dance," she told him.

"'M a man of many talents, pet".

Watching the way he moved, Buffy had to agree. He was lithe and sinuous beneath his dark blue button down and black t-shirt and jeans, and she couldn't help but remember the way he moved in bed. It was something she'd hadn't quite been able to recreate on her own when she was lonely in the dark of the night and found herself aching for his touch, not even admitting to herself that that was what she was doing.

When he slid behind her and pulled her to him, arms wrapped around her middle and holding her close as he swayed to the beat, she could feel his arousal, and couldn't help but respond. Spell-induced or not, the memory of his cool body moving over hers, under hers, _behind_ hers was very, very real, and her flushed skin burned with repressed need. With the next slow song she turned into him, pressing tightly against his body with her own, her arms around his neck.

He tipped his head and kissed brow. "You're so very beautiful". He kissed the tip of her nose. "So perfect". His lips brushed against hers. "Want to spend eternity with you".

Buffy knew she should stop him, stop herself, but she couldn't. Her lips tingled with anticipation as she parted them, and she wasn't disappointed. Spike kissed her slowly, everything melting away but him.

"Want to make love to you," he murmured into her mouth, and she shivered with desire, all of the objections her logical mind might provide flying straight out the window. He led her outside, into the alley, and she followed without protest, moaning with need when he pressed her up against the brick wall, kissing her passionately. Her knees weakened and she would have collapsed if he hadn't been holding her up.

"Let me take you home, sweetheart," he asked her through his kisses. "I'll make you happy".

Incapable of coherent thought, Buffy was on the verge of agreeing to anything he said when Xander and Willow burst through the back door of the Bronze. At their shocked faces, she remembered herself and straightened up, gently but resolutely pushing Spike away.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't have... You know we can't," she added firmly, caressing his cheek. "But, thank you for the dance". She watched the emotions flitting across his face, watched him trying to get himself under control, her own thoughts filled with guilt at leading him on and pride in his efforts at self-control. And raging disappointment at being brought to her senses. She sighed the thought away. "Spike. Thank you for… for right now, as well. I'm proud of you," she murmured softly. "I know how hard it is".

"You're bloody well right," he agreed, tense, and then he curled his tongue and leaned forward to whisper suggestively in her ear, "It's verrrry hard".

She snorted, and couldn't resist whispering back, "I'll be thinking about that later, when I'm in bed" and then she strode off to join her bewildered friends with a swish of her hips.

Buffy could feel Spike's eyes burning into her back as she sauntered away, and the only thing that kept her from running back to him was Xander grabbing her arm and hissing, "What the hell? Why are you locking lips with the evil dead?"

Only Willow knew that this wasn't a first, and Buffy wasn't in the mood to enlighten him. "It was just a thing. Temporary craziness," she said curtly.

"For whatever ridiculous reason you've managed to talk me into giving him a chance, which I know we're going to regret. And okay, fine, I'll play along until your head is on straight and you remember just what he really is. But," he gestured angrily towards the now-empty spot were Spike had stood, "isn't playing tonsil hockey going a little far?"

"Look, I'll worry about who I kiss, okay? It's not really anybody else's concern".

Xander grew harsh as he opened the door and they went inside. "I don't know. The last time you got cozy with a vampire, people died. I'd say that makes it our concern".

Buffy was too busy retorting to notice Forrest watching her from the shadows at the end of the alley.

* * *

When she stopped by Professor Walsh's office the next day, the older woman was excited to see her. "Ah, Buffy, perfect. I have one more exercise I need you to complete – nothing difficult at all. We simply need you to wear this comm. unit down into the tunnels so we can make sure it works properly". She handed the unit to Buffy. "Each one is meant to be biometrically linked to a specific user. It reports back vital information such as heart rate, and we need to make sure that the signal returns to base loud and clear".

"So, what, do I just walk around with it on?" the Slayer inquired.

"Not quite. We have a section of tunnels we send our operatives to for testing". She pulled out a schematic and showed it to Buffy, pointing to a tunnel on the map. "We find that if the comm. unit works well here, it works all over Sunnydale".

"Did you want me to go now?"

"Please. If this is a good time".

* * *

When Buffy ran into the demons in the Initiative testing tunnel, she thought it was a fluke, but when a gate came crashing down, trapping her in there with them, she knew otherwise.

She dodged and ducked, getting in some hits and kicks, although the demons were getting the better of her. Eventually, the tide turned, and she killed them both, then picked up the comm. unit from where it had fallen. She fiddled with it until it seemed to be working again.

"Hello, Professor Walsh. You know, a girl doesn't take kindly to being thrown into a trap like that. If you think that's enough to kill me, you really don't know what a Slayer is. Trust me when I say you're gonna find out". She crushed the device under foot.

Seconds later, before she could escape, Forrest was at the gate, opening it, eleven men ranged out behind him. "Well, why don't we see if the Slayer is as tough as her demon lover?" he spat at her.

"Huh?" she asked in confusion.

"I've seen you, you whore. Rutting with that vampire, like an animal. Is that what you are?" She was so surprised at his words, she was unprepared when he backhanded her. "A demon?"

"No!" she cried, infuriated. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing wrong with me, you filthy slut. It's a good thing Riley doesn't know what you really are. And he never will. Maggie's first inclination was capture, but after seeing you in action… We're going to put you down like the animal you are".

Enraged and afraid, Buffy rushed him, just managing to slip past him and the other commandos before they had the chance to react. She knew she couldn't take all of them, tired as she was from the previous battle, so she fled through the tunnels, deeper into the sewer system, the sound of their boots echoing behind her.

She suddenly smacked into something hard and… leathery? Hands reached out to steady her. "What's going on, luv?"

"The commandos have decided I'm their next target. They're after me," she panted as the tromping boots drew near. Thinking quickly, she pulled the Gem of Amarra off her hand and gave it to Spike. "In case we get trapped. But – no killing. Promise?"

After slipping the ring on, he grabbed her hand and tugged her along. "They're trying to kill you. I say it's kill or be killed".

"No!" she countered forcefully. "Please. They're human".

"That's debatable," he muttered. "Well then, let's try to outrun them. Come on".

He'd soon led her to a manhole, and said, "This is right outside the Watcher's. Let's go". He boosted her up and scrambled after her, wincing as the sun hit him but didn't do anything. "Missed this ring," he said ruefully.

Buffy threw open Giles' door, taking in the surprised looks on his, Xander's and Willow's faces. Wrinkling her brow, she asked, "Am I missing a meeting?"

Willow said guiltily, "We were just talking about you and…"

"Spike," Xander added flatly, catching sight of the vampire lurking in the doorway, unable to come in.

Buffy whirled to Giles. "Invite him in. Please. We have more important things to discuss".

Giles hesitated. "Buffy, I'm not sure that's such a good -"

She cut him off. "Look, the Initiative is after me. Spike just saved me. Can we worry about his level of evilness another time? Because right now it's lower than the soldiers chasing me". Pointing to Willow, she added, "You'll do a de-invite spell later, right?"

The redhead nodded. "Sure".

"Oh for – Spike, come in," Giles uttered in annoyance.

"Thanks, mate," the vampire replied, strolling in.

Closing the door, Giles stated, "I see you gave him the ring".

"It was necessary". Buffy chewed her lip and raised her eyebrow questioningly at Spike.

"No worries, luv," he told her, slipping the ring back off and giving it to her. "You keep it 'less you think I need it again".

She held it up for the gang to see. "Spike's holding up his end of the bargain. So can we forget about him for now and focus on the fact that the Initiative wants me dead?"

Once they'd agreed, Buffy proceeded to tell the others just what had happened, modifying what Forrest had said to her.

Willow put her hand over her mouth. "Do you think… Riley's in on it?"

Buffy shook her head. "Forrest said Riley would never know what…" She tried to think how to adapt what he'd said. "Would never know I was a demon too. So I'm thinking, no".

Spike snorted. "You think he was, what, off knitting booties for your future offspring, luv?"

"Getting back to the matter at hand – I'm fairly certain none of us are safe at the moment. If they're after me, they'll be after all of us".

"I still don't understand, Buffy. What happened that would make Maggie want to kill you?" Giles wondered.

"She certainly didn't like me asking questions. But I think she saw me as a threat. Something else… not quite human. Especially after I disabled her crack commandos so easily". She looked at the others. "And I don't trust this Initiative to not come after the rest of you. So we need to go someplace where they won't find us".

"I'm sure we can stay right where we are," Giles began. "I very much doubt those Initiative boys are going to come around here looking for -"

The front door banged open to reveal Riley standing there. Looking her over, he exclaimed, "Buffy! You're alright. What happened?"

"You don't know?" she asked accusingly.

He shook his head. "I know something went down, but…"

"Your Initiative wants me dead. First a trap, then soldiers. They made it quite clear".

"There must be some kind of mistake".

"No mistake," Xander interjected. "Question is, what do you know?"

But Riley wasn't looking at him. He was staring over Buffy's shoulder, where she knew Spike to be. She automatically placed herself in front of the vampire.

"That's… that's the hostile that killed my men," he said in disbelief. "We've been looking all over the place and… he's here? With you?" He saw the way she stood in front of Spike, protecting him, and he laughed incredulously. "So when you said it was personal…" He couldn't finish the thought. "Seriously, what gives? Why are you protecting this animal?"

Buffy bristled. "I told you before, leave him alone. Spike doesn't kill anymore". When Riley opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. "Your soldiers attacked him, wouldn't let him be. It was self-defense".

"Look, mate, I'd back off if I were you. Girl's the one who's been wronged here, not you," Spike added.

Riley narrowed his eyes at him, then pulled his shirt aside, exposing the large scar on his neck. "And this? This was self-defense too?" he asked belligerently.

"No. _That_ was personal".

Buffy whirled on Spike. "You!" she spluttered. "I'll deal with you later. You stay out of this".

But Riley was moving, shoving Buffy aside and going for Spike, pulling a stake out of his jacket. She dove at Riley and knocked him down. "NOBODY kills Spike but me," she warned, fist cocked for another blow.

"Who the hell are you?" Riley grimaced angrily, shocked at her perceived betrayal.

Spike smirked as Riley pulled himself up. "That's my wife".

Buffy put her hand over her eyes as the others gasped. "Oh no" she groaned.

"Buffy?" Giles choked out, polishing his glasses furiously.

"It's… nothing. Vampire slang. 'Cause we fight like a married couple," she insisted as Spike smirked at the others' reactions. Nobody seemed inclined to believe her, so she attempted to change the subject. "Hello? Soldiers coming after us, anyone?"

Riley turned on her. "You know, I have to wonder why. Maybe there's a reason".

"No reason. Other than they didn't like me being outside of their control," she retorted.

"We think Buffy was too inquisitive. That there is something the Initiative wishes to hide. We've heard… rumors. That they are secretly working toward some darker purpose. Something that would harm us all".

"No!" Riley insisted. "That's not… You know what, I'll figure it out on my own. Because you people are crazy". He retreated through the open door without saying another word.

Spike took Buffy's hand. "Don't think you'll have to worry about him bothering you anymore," he said happily.

She shook him off. "You…" she began warningly.

Xander moved in between them. "Wife?" he inquired, obviously hoping it wasn't true.

She looked up at Spike, who was watching her with a closed expression, waiting to see if she would deny it.

"Oh, fine". She faced the others. "It was Willow's spell. And we didn't… it wasn't…. It wasn't legal. Real". She looked back at Spike. "We're not married". He clenched his jaw, but didn't counteract what she was saying. She softened. "Only…we did make promises to each other, which I think are valid. He promised to give up evil, and I promised to help him". Love suffused his visage, and she couldn't help smiling at him.

Facing the others once more, she said. "And again, not the issue. We need to go someplace until we sort this out".

"Hotel?" Willow suggested, pre-empting Giles' and Xander's retorts.

* * *

The next morning found Buffy, Spike, Willow, Anya, Xander and Giles huddled around the TV in the room Spike had rented under an assumed name, watching in horrified silence as the newscaster described the death of a young boy.

"That's got to be a human," Spike said slowly. "The way the body was… laid out. Very clinical, like Jack the Ripper. Demons don't go in for that".

"But skewered?" Anya rejoined. "That sounds demonic".

Buffy stood. "I'd better go check it out. Just in case". Spike stood too. "It's daytime," she reminded him.

"Ring?"

She bit her lip, considering. "No. You stay here, protect the others. Please?"

The rest of the gang didn't look thrilled at the request. "Oh piss off," Spike snapped. "I could have killed the lot of you by now and I haven't. Give a bloke a break".

He walked Buffy to the door, hugging her in front of the others. "Be careful, luv".

She gazed up at him. "Yeah. Thanks". Looking over his shoulder at the glares aimed their way, she whispered in his ear, "You too".


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Notes:**

I own nothing but my ideas. All characters and original plot points belong to Joss Whedon and his associates. Thanks to the authors who wrote BtVS and came up with wonderful dialogue and plots.

* * *

Buffy eyed Riley cautiously as he approached the crime scene where she was lurking, the stretcher with the victim's body between them. He looked hard as he crossed to her.

"Riley…" she began. "Look, the Spike thing, it isn't as totally tweaked as it looks". A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Okay – maybe it is – but there's an explanation that almost makes sense…"

"Maggie's dead," he said coldly. "You happy now?"

"Happy?" she repeated, shocked. "How can you say that? Of course not. How – who killed her?"

"That's classified. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if you knew something about it. You – or your _husband_".

"Spike's not -" she began, but he went on, over her.

"Forrest had some interesting things to say. About you. And _Spike_," he ground out. "So forgive me if I'm not believing anything you tell me at the moment. Considering you lied about there not being anyone else – and the someone else being a some_thing_ else at that".

"I didn't lie. I… stretched. Things with Spike are complicated, and not at all what you think, or what Forrest thinks for that matter. You don't know what's going on, and seeing as I never promised you anything, I don't owe you an explanation. Especially not right now. Considering this," she said, waving her hand at the crime scene.

Riley stood there stiffly. "Look," she sighed. "I just want to find whatever did this and put the hurt on it. You know anything?"

He relented. "We think it was a Polgara demon. Maggie was… skewered… also, and we brought one of those in a few days ago. It's missing".

She cocked her head. "Polgara?"

"Big, ugly thing, long bone skewers in its arms".

Her face was set in stone. "Not for much longer".

* * *

When Riley found her at Willy's later, things weren't going much better. She had no clue where to find the Polgara, and just when Willy had started to tell what he knew about 314, Riley entered, looking worse for the wear. Buffy was first puzzled, then afraid, as he began to act more and more violently and erratic, completely unlike himself.

After refraining from shooting a woman, he slammed his gun on the bar, shaking uncontrollably. With an anguished look at Buffy, he cried, "What's happening to me?" and fled out the door.

* * *

Back at the hotel, Giles was pacing. "The research has been troubling. This demon we're dealing with seems highly atypical for a Polgara. The child it killed was mutilated, and there's no recorded case of a Polgara ever doing such a thing".

"Also - Polgaras have to eat about every two hours. Factor in the low I.Q. - and you've got a demon who's not very low profile," Anya added.

"So how come we haven't found him yet?" Buffy mused. "This doesn't seem right. Maybe – maybe we need to go into the Initiative. Find out what's really going on. Things seem to be spiraling out of control".

"How you going to manage that, luv?"

She considered. "I'll get Riley to take me".

"You think he would?" Willow wondered.

"Something's up with him too. I have a feeling he's going to want answers more than anything else right now".

She found Riley lurking outside of Lowell house in some bushes. He was shaking, pale, feverish, and he jumped when she touched his arm. "Come on. Let's go in. Get some answers".

He allowed her to lead him inside, and they went down together. Buffy put a finger to her lips as they moved towards the offices, but it was unnecessary. Riley hadn't spoken a single word to her.

They overheard somebody talking about Riley needing his medications, and they followed the doctor, slipping in behind him when he entered a classified area.

"Agent Finn!" the man exclaimed, obviously relieved to find his star agent. "Take this girl to the stockade immediately.

She rolled her eyes. As if Riley could take her anywhere on his best day, never mind in the condition he was in. "Riley. He can tell us what we need to know. About what killed Professor Walsh. And the boy that was killed".

She grabbed the man in a chokehold as he tried to move away, and when the doctor saw the soldier wasn't coming to his aid, he squealed, "It was the project".

"Project?" she queried. "314?"

"It – it escaped".

Buffy shook him, wanting more information, but Riley seemed to lose control. He attacked her instead, accusing her of being the one responsible for everything. She fended him off, trying to not hurt him. "Riley - stop. This is not about us. Everything we need to know is here. We just have to find out what was in 314 -"

A skewered body landed between them. They both looked up.

"Me," a hideous Frankenstein creature above them said. She gasped in shock as it continued. "I've been thinking... About the world. I wanted to see it. Learn it. I saw the inside of that boy, and it was beautiful, but it didn't tell me about the world. It just made me feel. So now I want to know about me. Why I feel. What I am". He leapt off the catwalk and landed in front of them effortlessly. Buffy's eyes widened, seeing the way he had been put together. "So I came home".

The monster slipped a disk into a hard drive in his body. "Interesting". He relayed what he had learned to them, informing them he was called 'Adam'. She and Riley listened, horrified at what he said, and eventually it became too much. Together they took Adam on, without success, and he left through a vent, completely unharmed.

The battle left Riley shaking on the floor, clearly in trouble. Buffy took his hand. "Are you okay?"

At that moment Forrest and Graham arrived with other soldiers, cutting off Riley's reply. Forrest made to close in on her, but she stood and pointed to the vent. "You've got a demon in there. It looks like a man, but it was… made. Out of parts".

"Right. And you just happened to be in the neighborhood. Your vampire not enough for you anymore?" Forrest sneered.

"She's telling the truth," Riley coughed wetly. "I saw it. It needs to be stopped. Go".

"He needs a hospital," she gestured at Riley, panicking, as several of the men moved off after Adam. Forest and Graham remained behind, along with a few other men.

"Back off. We take care of our own around here. You're not welcome. Understand?" Forrest threatened.

She reached for Riley again, and found herself staring down several rifles. Forrest nodded to one of the men. "Escort her to the stockade". He gave her a cold look. "I'll deal with you later".

Riley spoke up with difficulty. "Let her go, Forrest. That's a command," he added, as his friend seemed disinclined to obey.

"Yes sir," he said to Riley, seething with resentment. "This isn't over," Forrest whispered in her ear as the MP led her away.

* * *

"This is too much," Buffy complained to the group as they assembled in Giles' apartment. "Adam – he's killing more and more. Demons, people, anyone. And I don't think those Initiative friends of Riley's have forgotten about me either… I can't fight Adam _and_ the Initiative. Never mind the major English assignment I have due tomorrow".

"You know I'm here to help you, pet," Spike reminded her.

"Which part?"

"Any. All. I'm at your service".

She appraised him. "It _is_ a poetry class".

He gave her a pleased smile. "You took a poetry class?" At her embarrassed nod, he added, "Well, let's you and I tackle that first. It won't take any time, then we'll go out and have another look around for this Adam bloke".

"He's not just a bloke, Spike. I've never seen anything like it. I couldn't even touch him".

"Yeah, but you and me together, bet we make a great team, luv". She stared at him, their eyes locked together.

"And what are we? Chopped liver?" Xander cut in.

"No!" She continued more softly. "I'm going to need everybody with me. That thing has to be put down".

Buffy turned as a male voice queried, "What about me?" Riley stood in the open doorway. Spike stiffened, and she put a calming hand on him.

"Thought you'd be off with your other chums, trying to catch the monster you unleashed on us all," Spike snarked. "Which, if I were still evil, I'd be congratulating you on. Wanker".

"Enough," she told him. To Riley, she said, "I think we all want the same thing. To stop Adam. I can use your help, if that's why you're here".

Riley and Spike were glowering at each other, and Riley looked away first. "I'm not so sure I'm here to help him," he nodded at the vampire. "But the enemy of my enemy and all that. I'm warning you though," he threatened Spike, "give me any reason, and I'll be putting you down".

"I thought I made it clear before. Only I kill him. He's my…"

"Husband?" Spike offered.

"Responsibility," she corrected severely, giving him a look. "Don't make me stake you". She pulled out her homework. "And right now you promised me help with this". She set him at the table with the assignment. "Read that over, I'll be back in a minute".

Spike narrowed his eyes at her as she went to Riley and led him outside, but he stayed put.

"Thanks," she told the still-recovering soldier as they sat on the far side of the courtyard. "For accepting Spike".

"Oh, I'm not accepting him. Not at all. But you said you had an explanation, and I'm going to trust you do. I've had days to think it over, and I think I know you, Buffy. You're a good person. I have to believe you'll do what's right".

She studied him. "What changed your mind?"

"I thought everything was clear. Black and white. But it turns out maybe we weren't the good guys after all. Maybe we're the bad guys. I don't understand. So I'm… reassessing what I know".

He took her hand. "It's complicated. And painful. I don't know who I am anymore. But I think I know who you are, what you stand for. And that keeps me going".

Blushing, Buffy said, "Don't. I already have a vampire who looks to me for who he is. I can't have you doing it too".

"And the story behind that…?"

"I'll tell you. Someday soon, I promise". She stood and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're better. I was worried about you". There was a noise at the top of the stairs, and she went to investigate, but didn't see anything. Buffy slipped back inside, Riley following behind, and sat at the table with Spike as Riley joined the others on the couch.

"Bit distracting here, luv," Spike said with a glance at the couch. "How 'bout we go somewhere quieter?"

As she stood, the phone rang, and Giles answered it. "Buffy," he held it out, puzzled. "It's for you".

She took the phone, and listened to what the caller had to relay. Hanging up, she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed deeply.

"What is it?" Giles asked. All eyes were on her.

"Faith. She's awake". She sat back down heavily. "Beat somebody up, took her clothes, and disappeared out of the hospital. Nobody knows where she is".

* * *

Buffy was curled up next to Spike on the sofa in his crypt, writing furiously as he spoke. The news of Faith's awakening qualified for the worst-timing ever award, as Xander had said, but there hadn't been much else she could do until she found the other Slayer.

Meanwhile, she had a major assignment due tomorrow, and Spike was helping her. She wrote down his last statement and read it over. "Thanks. Now I just need to make some sense out of it all and type it up. You're a godsend".

"Don't know if I'd put it that way, pet," he said, pleased. "You like your class, then?"

"I do. Once upon a time – before you screwed up my life – I would have hated it. But it's… not as hard as I thought. Or as boring".

He tipped his head and smiled at her. "Well then. Glad to know I can be a positive influence in your life".

"Ironic, isn't it?" she laughed. She stood up and tousled his hair. "Thanks, Mr. Pratt. You've been very useful".

With sudden speed, he pulled her onto his lap and nipped her earlobe. "I could be useful in other ways too. If you let me".

She wriggled against him, tempted. The stress relief alone would be worth it. And now that she knew just what she was resisting…

Laying her head on his shoulder, she took a deep breath. "I want you. I'm not going to deny it. You're… incredible. Very hard to resist". She walked her fingers up and down his shirt. "But, I've been thinking about this. Since – the Bronze. I don't want it to be… just sex. And I'm not ready for the other. There's a lot of… well, trust issues, what with you being a sort-of evil vampire and all".

"Buffy". His voice rumbled through her. "You make me remember what it is to want to be a good man. I know… I know I've done evil, but those days are behind me, I promise you".

She held herself still, wanting to believe him, knowing she still wasn't ready to make that leap.

Spike took her hesitation as an invitation to continue. "Baby, you know I love you. Just want to make you feel good. Keep some of my other promises to you, Mrs. Pratt". His hands were slowly sliding down her back, burning through the thin fabric, weakening her resolve.

She got up, away from temptation. "I know you do. I believe you. And I care about you. But I don't… love you. Not the way I want to love a – a boyfriend. I just – can't. You know that. And if we do this anyway…" she shrugged helplessly. "It would be wrong. I would be using you, and it would kill me. Kill whatever is good between us. I want that goodness more than I want… you know".

"Bloody hell. I don't know how you humans do this. All this worrying and guilt over nothing".

"It's tricky. But important to me".

Spike blew out a pent-up breath. "And I suppose I wouldn't love you otherwise. Screwed-up vampire that I am".

"We're a pair aren't we?" She'd packed her bag and moved to the door.

"Wait. Please? Got something I meant to give you the other day, but things were a little crazy". He went to his fridge and pulled out a large heart-shaped box.

"Did you – are these chocolates?"

"Well, yeah. For Valentine's Day," he mumbled sheepishly, scuffing at the ground with his boot.

"Chocolate. Exactly what I needed after a day like today. You're the best". She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "You're winning lots of points tonight. Doing things right. Just… so you know. In case you were wondering".

"Yeah?"

"Yeah".

* * *

**A/N:** The noise Buffy investigates while talking to Riley? Faith. In the show, she peers in the window at the assembled Scooby gang, but unless you remember that, you probably won't make the connection... and I'm trying to avoid viewpoints other than Buffy's/Spike's.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Notes:**

Um, lots of warnings for this chapter... I just want to point out that I have been quite upfront about Spike not being a fluffy puppy, and that if you're expecting a _good_ Spike, this is not the story for you.

* * *

Spike watched Buffy dancing from across the floor, sullenly nursing his beer. It had taken him a long time to find her. He hadn't expected her to stand him up for a night of dancing with whatever tossers happened across her path. Watching her shimmy and shake was something to see, but Spike was more worried than aroused. She wasn't acting like herself at all. Even the way she was moving was off.

These past few weeks in Sunnyhell had been… well, Spike would have to go with pleasant. Buffy spent a fair amount of time with him, and while there wasn't the closeness they'd shared before, on the other side of the country, she made it clear that she intended him to be part of her life. Her little mates weren't too thrilled about it, but they proffered him a wary acceptance, which was as much as could be expected of them. Spike hoped that if he behaved himself, she'd remember just how good they were together, spell or not, and move past this 'friends only' claptrap. He would put up with it for now, but… he didn't want pleasant. He wanted amazing.

Which was a good part of the reason why he was rather put out that she hadn't met him at his crypt earlier, as promised, and even more disturbed to find her here, obviously enjoying the attentions of all the sweaty, post-adolescent boys surrounding her.

When Buffy wandered off the dance floor and bumped into him without even realizing he was there, Spike was completely baffled. "So. Here you are," he said curiously, and a little resentfully, wondering what she'd say.

The girl cocked her head at him, obviously confused. "And you… here too".

"You stood me up".

She appraised him. "Not sure why. Although you're not the hunk of man-meat I was cuddling up to before. Am I two-timing corn-fed?"

"Huh?" Spike asked, thoroughly taken aback. "Who?"

She didn't answer, only walked away. Spike grabbed her to keep her from leaving. "Hey! Hey…" she repeated, realization dawning on her. "You're a vampire".

"Same as I ever was. What's going on with you, Slayer?"

"Let go of me. Or I'll stake you".

He didn't. Whatever was the matter with the girl, he needed to figure it out. "Not 'till you tell ol' Spike here what the bloody hell is happening".

"Spike," she repeated, appraising him once more. "William the Bloody. Who seems to have a thing with Blondie. Gotta love that girl".

"What's wrong with you tonight?" He took the drink out of her hand. "Think you've had too many of these".

"Nothing's wrong with me," she leaned into him. "I'm just appreciating how… right… things could be". Resting against him, she said sultrily, "How 'bout it, bleach boy? You want me? You know…" She'd pinned him against the post. "I could ride you at a gallop 'till your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you 'till you popped like warm champagne and you'd beg me to hurt you a little bit more… and you know why I don't?"

Whatever was wrong with Buffy, it all of a sudden didn't much matter anymore. All he could think about was shagging her blind. Girl was driving him insane with her bleeding cocktease act.

She smiled at his lust-addled state, and mockingly answered herself. "Because it's wrong". She laughed and stepped away from him.

Bloody hell, the daft bint expected him to disregard what she'd just said? Let it go? It would take a saint to ignore the desire coursing through him, and William the Bloody was no saint. He wasn't even a man.

He'd been good. So good. Let her set the pace, backed off when she asked, even though she left him trembling with unfulfilled need. Denied his demon the release it screamed for. He'd had to resort to his hand so often, he was surprised he wasn't blind and sporting a pair of hairy palms. Chit had changed the sodding rules, though. If Buffy wanted to play games, he'd play games.

He turned seductive, moved silkily towards her, backing her into the opposite post. "It's not wrong, pet. We're already lovers. Already shagged like rabbits. You know how I love to make you tremble in my arms, make you cum on my tongue". He caught a lock of her hair and let it trail through his fingers, admiring the way it felt on his skin. He gazed at her, eyes lidded. "Not nice to tease your husband like that. I may get angry… and spank you".

She'd been mesmerized by him, but at that she recoiled. "Husband? What the fuck are you playing at?"

"Not playing. You know. You're wearing my ring. Although," he slipped it off her hand, "I think we should put this where it belongs. Don't you?" And he slid it onto the correct finger.

"Not the vampire I expected," she muttered. "Girl's got kink". Louder, she added, "I can see why I dumped Angel for you".

The words she'd spoken to herself threw him for a moment. Almost as if she weren't Buffy. But… she looked like Buffy. Smelled like Buffy. He leaned down and licked her ear. Tasted like Buffy. He ran his hands over her and she melted into him like Buffy. This was his girl… She'd probably just had too much to drink and was feeling frisky. Spike knew an opportunity when he saw one.

"Come on, sweetheart". No more games. "Time for you to come home with me," he purred. Time for… _amazing_.

She considered him, and Spike thought she'd refuse. But then she said, "Yeah, why the hell not," and led the way out of the Bronze.

She let him take the lead once outside. "Can't wait to take a ride on you, vamp. You've got one hell of a bod". When he looked at her she said, "What? Not used to me getting my naughty on? I'm not always a stuck-up tight ass with no sense of fun".

Well, okay, he might not have put it that way…

Outside the crypt, she hesitated, as if she'd never been there before, and Spike was once again struck with the thought that this wasn't _Buffy_. But when she beckoned to him with one finger, then ran her hands over herself, saying, "How do you want me? Hmm, baby?" the thought flew right out of his head.

She spun for him. "What do you want to do with this body?" She pinched her nipples, the hard pebbles poking through her top, and added, "What nasty little desire have you been itching to try out?" Spike sucked in his cheeks, watching her intensely, his desire roaring in his ears. It didn't matter if his girl wasn't quite herself tonight. So she'd had a few drinks. Seeing her confident, playful like this, destroyed any remaining reservations.

"I have all kinds of ideas in mind," he rumbled, watching her touch herself as he unzipped his jeans, giving his raging hard-on some much needed space. He stroked himself, leering as she took in the sight of him, licking her lips with her little pink tongue.

"You said you'd spank me," she reminded him. "Am I a bad girl? Do you wanna hurt me?" She bent over the slightly-worn arm of his sofa, legs splayed, leather-encased ass in the air. "Come on then, punish me. Show me who's boss, Big Bad".

_Fuck_.

Yeah.

No stopping now.

* * *

Spike was having one hell of a time. When the Slayer let herself go, she _really_ let herself go. Making love to her had more than satisfied the romantic in him, but tonight Buffy was appealing to his other side. The demonic one. The one that enjoyed pain and degradation more than pleasure.

They'd done things he'd expected to have to coax her into, and things he would have never believed she would agree too. Not in a million years

It was turning out to be the best night of his unlife. Far beyond _amazing_. He hadn't suspected she had a dark side like that, but the secret little fantasies she'd revealed to him made him harder than he'd ever been. The more he fucked her, the less he cared about the why of it. Whatever had happened to loosen her up like this, he wasn't going to complain. He only hoped it would happen again.

Spike figured he ought to be done in after the latest go-around, but she whispered another suggestion into his ear and he was hard as a rock again. 'Course, the blood helped. With her lifeblood flowing through him, he could go hours more. Maybe even days.

He'd wanted to take her like this since… well, since the very first moment he'd ever seen her, flaunting her perky little body for all the boys at the Bronze. He rammed into her, roughly, violently, and she whimpered, half in pain and half in ecstasy. He pulled his fangs out of her neck, high on her blood. "That's it, you sodding cunt. You take it," he snarled as she screamed in pained pleasure.

Which is why he didn't hear the other bird come down his stairs, only half-registered her appalled, "Spike?"

The other woman may have looked totally different, but the expression on her face could only belong to one person. Buffy.

He froze as everything clicked into place.

_Fuck. You're well and truly buggered now._

* * *

Buffy had escaped from the Council's wet team, and she only had one thought. Spike. Spike would know it was really her, Spike would help her. She flew through the cemetery and flung his door open, calling, "Spike, I need your help!"

There was no answer, only muffled noises coming from below. From the bedroom he'd so proudly shown her, complete with dozens of flickering candles, dark four-poster bed and rich bedclothes. The kind of bedroom she'd always imagined him in.

She crept down the ladder, unsure of what she'd find, and the sight left her horrified. From the looks of it, Spike was violently raping – well, her. Her body at least. She was tied spread-eagled to the bed, face down, whimpering and screaming as he brutally fucked her, blood dripping from his fangs while he snarled at her to take it.

"Spike?" she cried out, aghast. He turned to her, and his face melted back to human, lust battling with confusion. "What are you doing?" she whispered, horrified.

He froze, then disengaged – and was it really in… that part of her body? She noticed his penis was glistening with blood, and realized it was hers. Her blood. Because of what he'd been doing to her.

"Who the hell are you, then?" he demanded.

Her own face turned to look at her from the bed, an empty, dead look in her eyes, and Buffy shuddered at the horror of it. "Hey B," she heard herself say. "Gotta tell you, you sure know how to pick 'em. The new vamp toy is a _stallion_". She craned her neck to look at the vampire. "And kinky. Never knew you went in for the kink like that. Don't worry. I showed him a good time".

Buffy couldn't answer, couldn't move. She stood there, hand over her mouth in a silent scream.

"Aw come on, don't look at me like that. I was only giving him what he really wanted. I'm sure you would have done the same. Since he's apparently your husband and all".

She dragged her eyes away from the sight of herself and gaped disbelievingly at Spike instead. He was looking between the two of them, and she could see the wheels in his head turning. Buffy didn't like the expression on his face. It was sly, calculating, and when he slid the Gem of Amarra off of Faith's – her – hand and put it onto his own, she felt her heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. In that moment, she understood just how deeply his demon controlled him.

"I'm guessing you're Faith," he said to the girl on the bed.

"Should have known it wasn't Blondie behind the wheel," she confirmed.

He assessed Faith's body. "And that would make you Buffy, then".

"I – you – you'd better leave, Spike, before I kill you," was all she could manage in a cracked voice. Not that she'd be able to kill him. He'd made sure of it, taking the ring back.

He pulled his jeans on and sauntered over to her. Buffy was relieved to not have to stare at the evidence of what he'd done anymore, but she cringed away from him as he continued closer.

"Don't be like this," he said without a trace of apology. "You _asked_ me for it. Well, least I thought you did. Can't blame a bloke for giving a girl what she wants, can you?"

Still reeling, she said, "How could you think I wanted that? Ever? After what you did to me last fall? Surely you knew something was wrong!"

He flinched slightly, and she guessed that he had known. Maybe not that it wasn't her in the body he was violating, but something. "Look me in the eyes," she continued. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that you really believed I would ask you to – do that," she demanded.

He couldn't do it. She saw the various emotions flitting across his face – fear, shame, anger, remorsefulness – but he settled on cocky. "T'was an honest mistake. Thought you'd loosened up some, got a bit of fun it you".

Faith laughed cruelly, and the million tiny pieces of Buffy-heart were crushed into powdered glass, never to be repaired again.

"That's not a mistake. That's…" Tears spilled from her eyes, and she was unable to continue. Spike's face fell and he turned instantly contrite.

"Oh, no, don't cry. Buffy, I'm sorry. Really. I buggered it up, I know. Didn't know it wasn't you, but you're right, I should have known better…"

She backed further away from him, arms up in defense. "There's no sorry for this, Spike," she whispered. "You're evil. I understand now, what a fool I was to think you could change, to think you could control yourself".

"Don't say that," he begged. "I've been good. You know I have. I can do it again. This was just a slip-up. I'll try harder". He held his hands out to her in supplication.

"No," she whispered. "If you had a soul… if you knew right from wrong, you never would have… _used_ me like that. Even if you thought I was asking for it. You wouldn't have done it because you would have understood that it was wrong. But you don't have a soul. You'll never know…"

Spike began to protest, his words making no impact on the tattered shreds of her heart. Buffy glanced again at the girl tied to the bed, watching them with malicious glee, and she felt the strength of conviction wash over her. "Listen to me very carefully," she cut him off forcefully. "I've given you your chances. Let you try to prove yourself. But I'm done".

Striding to Faith, righteous anger burning through her, she wrenched the wedding ring off her finger, ignoring the other Slayer's protests. Whirling, she marched back to Spike and placed the ring in his hand, forcing his fingers into a fist around it. He looked uncomprehendingly at his hand, and her fury mounted. "Trying isn't sufficient. Not when…" She trailed off as her voice started to crack, and she hardened it. "You are nothing but a soulless, evil demon who will never be good enough for me. I never, ever want to see you again, William Harrison Pratt. If I do, I will kill you without a moment's hesitation. The Gem will not stop me. Are we clear?"

"Five-by-five," Faith mocked from the bed as Spike stared silently at Buffy.

When he still didn't move, only gazed at her in mystification, she snarled, "I mean it, Spike. Leave now". She picked up his coat and boots, thrust them into his arms. "Forever". He must have realized she was deadly serious, because he turned and fled through the tunnels without another word.

"Harsh," Faith commented.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you".

"Since you sent my fun away, think you could untie me? The ropes are chaffing".

"_Shut the fuck up_!" Buffy screamed and cuffed Faith across the head, rendering her unconscious.

The sight was too much for her and she sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, sure she would die from the searing pain in her chest.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Notes:**

First things first. You guys really humble me with your comments. They spanned quite the range of reactions, but most everyone had something wonderfully insightful to add. Hopefully I can keep surprising in a good way! Thanks for remembering that you signed up to read _my_ story, even if you wouldn't have taken it the same direction, and for trusting me to make it right eventually. If things were all sunshine and daisies right away, it would get pretty boring.

Have you ever tried to come up with a timeline from Buffy episodes? It just doesn't work. Time is waaay too fluid... each episode seems like it takes place the very next day, and yet, somehow a season spans nine months or so. Anyhow, keeping that in consideration, this chapter spans the rest of the S4, which is a couple of months. I don't want to rehash every event, so there are brief 'reminders' of what happens - the good thing about working from canon is I that don't have to explain every single thing. Just keep in mind that time is passing relatively quickly.

* * *

She couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. Her body had healed quickly enough, thankfully, but her soul hadn't. All week, Buffy had dragged herself listlessly through the days. Today she couldn't even be bothered with that.

Spike hadn't been seen since he'd fled, and she supposed she was grateful he'd left. The fury she'd felt had ebbed, and in its place there was nothing but emptiness and devastation. She stared at the ceiling, her usual thoughts swirling in her mind. _Stupid. Stupid to trust a vampire. Your fault for being so stupid._

You'd think she'd have learned after Angel. Or after any of the other times Spike had hurt her. But no, she hadn't learned, hadn't put a halt to the feelings she had for him, and now there was no way to fix the gaping hole where her heart had been.

_Stupid to trust a vampire_, she thought once more.

Pain and blood and degradation and violence… those were what a soulless demon got off on. The dark beauty of destruction, as he'd once told her.

The other side of him, the loving touches and words he'd given her, the façade of tenderness, were part of the mask of humanity Spike wore, not who he really was. How could she ever have thought he was different from other vampires?

She rolled to her side and turned her mind to Faith, who had seemed to enjoy Spike's brutal attentions. Buffy couldn't understand it, but then, Faith had always been different than Buffy. Much darker. Much more suited to what a vampire really wanted, right? No wonder Spike had ignored his gut. She _knew _he had realized something was wrong with 'Buffy', his face had given it away, but the demon had wanted what it wanted. And it had taken it.

Faith's words rang in her head. "_I was only giving him what he really wanted."_

It wasn't like Spike had denied it. "_Thought you'd loosened up some, got a bit of fun in you_." Because that was his idea of a good time… After all, when he'd had her tied up in a cave with Angel, hadn't he threatened to treat her that very way? Somehow, she'd managed to forgive him for that, let go of those bad memories, whether from seeing him attempt to change or due to Stockholm syndrome. Now it all came rushing back to her – the humiliation, the rage, the disgust he'd aroused in her.

Buffy's head hurt, trying to understand how Spike could he claim to love her, and then declare he thought she _wanted_ to be treated like that, knowing how much she had hated her time tied up and threatened by him. She couldn't reconcile the two.

The real blow had been his first reaction, however. Taking back the Gem of Amarra. Protecting himself. Putting himself first. Behaving exactly as a soulless demon would.

Which led back to: _stupid to trust a vampire_.

She wrenched her mind away from the thought. Instead of leaving the topic entirely behind, it skittered over to Faith. Like Spike, there was no word on her either since she'd gotten away. Unlike with Spike, Buffy wasn't nearly as surprised by Faith's actions, but what the other Slayer had done to her still hurt. A lot. Faith had taken whatever small measure of trust and caring there had been between Buffy and Spike and had destroyed it.

With another sigh, Buffy found herself once more caught up in the memories of that night.

_Eventually calming from her crying jag, Buffy faced a restrained Faith in her body and no one to help her. Unwilling to untie Faith, too mortified to let anyone see what Spike had done, she couldn't decide what to do. Only the thought that the Council wet team might find her sent her into action._

_Running to the dorms, she managed to convince Willow that she was really Buffy thanks to the unexpected ally she found in Willow's new friend, Tara. The pair of witches set up a way to switch the Slayers back into their own bodies, and, tied by Willow to a chair next to Spike's bed, Buffy clasped Faith's hand and completed the exchange. _

_The other Slayer managed to escape while Buffy was still reeling from the sensation of returning to her violated and bruised body, and Buffy told the witch to let her go, keeping her face averted while Willow unbound her from Spike's bed._

_Her normally easygoing friend was in a towering rage by the time Buffy was able to sit up, a sheet wrapped around her body to cover her nakedness. Her clothes had been completely torn apart, and she refused to put on anything of Spike's, so she waited apprehensively while Willow went to get her something to wear._

_As soon as Buffy was clothed, Willow began wrathfully, "Don't ask me to forget this, because I never will. I will find him and hex him in so many different ways he will beg for death"._

_"Thanks Will," Buffy replied, her voice uncharacteristically small and hollow. "But don't go all vengeance-y on my behalf, I don't want you getting another visit from D'Hoffran"._

_The redhead deflated. "Good point. You are going to kill Spike, right?"_

_"If he ever comes back, I will. He's used up his last chance". She moved to the ladder gingerly, shuffling her broken body slowly. "Willow, promise me you won't tell anyone about this. Ever. I can't listen to the 'I-told-you-so's'"._

_"You have to tell them something"._

_"I will"._

_And she did. She told them that she'd beat the holy hell out of Faith – in her body – and that's why she looked the way she did. And as for Spike…_

_"We had a… disagreement. I realized he was un-redeemable and he took off before I could kill him. We ever see him again, he's a marked vampire". There was no argument from the others, only not-so-subtle sighs of relief that Spike was gone._

She pushed the memory away once more. Willow had since tried to talk to her about what had happened, but Buffy found she couldn't bear to. Bad enough to admit she'd been so wrong to herself. Whenever her friend looked at her with sad, compassionate eyes, Buffy simply rolled over and pretended to sleep until Willow left once more. Which is how she found herself now, alone, in bed, and unable to shake the deep melancholy that had settled over her.

Hours later, without any change in her position or thoughts, Buffy wearily dragged herself up, deciding to go home for the weekend. Faith had been right about one thing. She'd been a bad daughter. She should go visit her mom.

* * *

"Oh honey, that's what you're supposed to do," her mom countered when she tried to apologize. "You're supposed to grow up and move on with your life. I understood".

"Still," Buffy sniffled. "Is it okay if I spend the weekend here? Having Mom time?"

"As you would say, duh. Come on, let's pick out some terrible movies and get buckets of ice cream".

She snuggled into her mom on the couch, her mother stroking her hair like she had when she was a little girl. "So, things with Spike are officially over?" her mom asked after hearing a radically modified version of the story.

"They'll never be over until one of us kills the other. But he's left Sunnydale".

"I'm sorry to hear it. He's been a very pleasant young man to be around".

"Be around? When?" Buffy couldn't hide the surprise and fear in her voice.

"He's come by to see me occasionally. At the gallery. I think he must have been very lonely. There's not much for a vampire to do when they give up evil, I suppose". The Slayer flinched, not bothering to disabuse her mother of the notion that Spike had _given up_ evil.

"So he and you…"

"We'd talk. He's very interesting and surprisingly knowledgeable about art".

"Huh," Buffy said. "But you never invited him into our house, right?"

"I tried to, but he stopped me before I could. Said you wouldn't like it and he wanted to respect your wishes".

The ache in her chest flared up once more. Thanks to Angel, she'd already learned that it was possible to care about someone and utterly despise them at the same time. It didn't make it any easier to go through again, though.

_Note to self: never ever get involved with a vampire ever again. Except to kill them_.

After the first movie, her mom said, "He left you a note. It's on my desk". When her daughter didn't answer, Joyce asked, "Do you want it?"

"I suppose," she replied listlessly. She didn't want to read another letter of apology. She'd seen too many already.

There was no apology, however. It only said,

_'If you need help with Adam, I'll come. You know how to get a hold of me.'_

And that was it.

She tore it up, ripping it into tinier and tinier pieces until she could rip no more. She imagined it was how her heart looked. Buffy knew she wouldn't ask Spike to come back. She'd rather die at Adam's hand than see the vampire again.

After she'd gathered all the pieces and burned them for good measure, she contemplated doing the same to the rest of her mementos of William the Bloody, but she couldn't find the energy to care.

* * *

Buffy ran into Riley on patrol a few days after Jonathon's Superstar spell ended. Completely losing her already damaged self-confidence while under his spell had brought her back to her senses, and she was up and about again, patrolling with a vengeance and working out the pain and heartache the best way she knew how.

Unfortunately there wasn't much to patrol, but what she did see was strange.

"A demon and a vampire working together? I may be wrong, but isn't that unusual?" Riley said after.

"Try impossible. Something's up".

"Adam," Riley said. "I think he's got something to do with it".

"So… no luck on finding him?"

"No! None!" Riley exclaimed, aggravated. "But, it's only a matter of time. Meanwhile, the boys are going crazy with frustration, so we're throwing a party on Friday night". He clenched his hands nervously. "I suppose you wouldn't want to come?"

"And surround myself with the people who tried to kill me? I can't think of a better way to spend my night".

"I guess you've got a point," he acknowledged, without his usual apologies for his organization or assurances that she was no longer a target. He glanced at her face, then looked down as he said, "But I was wondering more about your… thing… with Spike". Pain overwhelmed her at the mention of his name, and Buffy quickly schooled her face into neutrality. "I haven't seen him around for a long time," he commented.

"That's because he's not. Around anymore. We're… there was never an us. But there's even less of one now".

"Good! Or – maybe not," he corrected at her grim expression.

"No, it's good. Just…"

"You don't have to explain".

"No, I want to. I promised I would. No time like the present". They sat together on the cemetery wall and Buffy explained about Spike. She glossed over most of it, downplaying her feelings for the vampire, but he got the basics.

"So that's it. The story of how I'm the most stupid and gullible Slayer in history".

He shook his head vehemently. "You're not gullible or stupid. You just have a good heart. There's nothing wrong with wanting to believe the best of somebody. In fact, I think it's amazing that you're as loving and trusting as you are, despite the life you've been chosen to lead. Most people would get hard and cold in your situation, but you haven't. I hope it never changes".

"Um, thanks," she said softly, a little overwhelmed. Riley had completely altered her perspective.

She glanced at him shyly. "So, do you remember when I said I'd let you know if things ever change for me?" He nodded, and she took a breath. She'd finally taken a stand on her feelings for Spike. No time like the present to be getting on with her life. "I think they might be starting to. Not, you know, yet. Or quickly".

"Slow can be good". They smiled at each other. "Does that mean you want to come to the party after all?"

"Not so much. But if there's another one… in a few weeks… you might ask me again".

"If there's not a party, I'll throw one just for you".

* * *

Buffy sat with Riley inside the burnt out shell of Sunnydale High.

"So… Oz is a werewolf," he ventured.

"Yup".

"And Willow dated him".

"Again, yup".

"I guess I might have been more surprised if I hadn't already heard about you and Spike. I already understand there are – degrees – of evilness".

"Oz isn't evil at all. He just has a… problem. And thanks for getting him out of there and bringing him to us. That was very – I don't think brave is a strong enough word".

"I'm going with stupid myself".

"Not stupid at all. So you really can't go back to the Initiative now?"

"Nope. They take this kind of thing very seriously. I'm completely AWOL".

"Are you – do you regret it?"

"Not one bit".

They sat quietly together for awhile.

"Spike's not the first vampire I've been friends with," Buffy blurted out.

Riley was startled. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I actually dated one. On purpose. He has a soul though, so – not evil. Usually".

"How'd that work out for you?"

"Not great. I've firmly sworn off undead boyfriends. Apparently keeping a soul can be tricky when you're dating. If you're a vampire". He raised his eyebrow. "It was a thing. He's better now, and we agreed it was safer for the world if we didn't date anymore".

"So you and Willow like the dangerous men".

"Anya's an ex-demon," Buffy offered.

"Ah. I see. It's a club requirement to date not-quite-humans. I suppose I need to find one myself if I want to join up".

"Maybe. My mom dated an evil robot".

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I killed it".

"Well, it's nice to have a Slayer for a daughter". He took her hand. "Would dating a Slayer get me into the club?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask". She squeezed his hand and let it go.

They were quiet once more.

"I dated a wrestler in high school".

Buffy shot him a look. "Oh…that's nice. I didn't know you were… bi…" Hmm. He _had_ been helping the lesbians hang their banner.

Riley spluttered. "N-no – a _girl_ wrestler. I'm from Iowa. Wrestling's a big deal". After a beat he added, "I guess that doesn't quite compare to a vampire, though".

"Definitely not. A girl wrestler's way scarier".

* * *

Buffy took the news stoically. Faith was in L.A. and trying to kill Angel. Of course. What else would the psycho Slayer be doing?

Buffy hadn't talked to Angel at all since… when? Since he'd called her at Thanksgiving? That sounded right. She hadn't thought about him much either. Certainly not in a romantic way. The thought saddened her. So much for true love. She kicked at a rock as she walked down the street. Even Spike and Drusilla's forever love hadn't lasted much more than a century. She didn't know if she believed in lasting love at all anymore.

Not that it mattered to her. How much longer did she have? One year? Five? Planning for a lifetime wasn't in the cards when you'd already surpassed your life expectancy.

Even if she didn't feel the same way about Angel anymore, she couldn't help caring about him. And Faith was her responsibility. She'd screwed up enough of Buffy's life. She was going to make sure the rogue Slayer paid in full.

* * *

Maybe she was no longer desperately in love with the brooding vampire, but seeing him _cuddling_ Faith was almost more than she could bear.

Angel defending her was the last straw.

"She needs help".

"Help? Do you have _any_ idea what she did to me?"

"Yes".

"Really? All of it?" Angel furrowed his brow. "Do you know why I couldn't walk when she left Sunnydale?"

He lowered his voice. "Yes".

"Do you care?" Buffy felt almost hysterical.

"She wants to change. She has a chance -"

"No. No chance. Some people are just – evil. I've finally learned my lesson on that one".

"Buffy…" Faith implored, "I'm s-".

"Apologize to me and I will _beat you to death_".

"Go ahead," she said quietly, but when Buffy took a threatening step toward her, Angel stepped in between them.

"This is not going to happen," he said gravely, sending Faith upstairs.

Buffy, outraged, started after her, and was stopped by Angel holding her back. She whirled on him, punching him, and Angel hit her back, full in the face.

She held her hand over where he'd hit her, shocked.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry," Angel stammered, as shocked as she was.

* * *

Buffy and Angel stood uneasily in the hallway of the police station, the gulf between them so great that she couldn't believe they'd ever been close.

"You should have told me what was going on," she said wearily.

"I didn't think it was your business".

She raised her eyebrows. "Not my business?"

"I needed more time with Faith".

"You needed – Do you have any idea what it was like for me to see you with her? That you went behind my back?"

"Do you have any idea what it was like to hear you'd married _Spike_?" he retorted.

"I didn't. It was a spell. And that's so not the issue here".

"You're right. This wasn't about you. This was about saving somebody's soul. That's what I do here, and you're not part of it. You had no right to come here looking for vengeance".

"Yeah, I think I do".

"Not in my city".

They glared at each other.

Buffy backed down first. "I don't know you anymore," she said sadly.

"Maybe you never did. Don't come here and expect me to do things your way. You don't have that right. Go home". He turned away from her.

"Huh. Faith wins – again," she told his back, and walked out the door.

* * *

The phone rang and Buffy picked it up.

"Buffy?"

"Angel," she said flatly.

"Look, I – I just wanted to apologize. I had no right to speak to you like that".

"It's okay. You weren't entirely wrong. We aren't a part of each other's worlds anymore and – and you were right about Faith. I think. So good job," she finished a little resentfully.

"Well. Thanks. But again, I'm sorry. I know things have been… awkward between us since Spike… and I don't know how to fix it".

"Honestly? I don't think it is fixable".

He was silent a long while. "I still miss you, Buffy. Every single moment. I love you more than you'll ever know".

"It doesn't do me much good, though, does it?"

"Ouch".

"Sorry. You're just getting the backlash from me swearing off vampires forever". She twisted the phone cord around her finger. "I – thanks for calling. It means a lot to me".

"I couldn't leave it the way it was".

"I'm glad you didn't. Take care, Angel," she said in a softer voice.

"Yeah. You too," she heard his voice catch, and then only a dial tone.

* * *

"Riley, I don't know how to tell you this, but – Forrest is dead. I'm so sorry. It was Adam".

He stood up suddenly. "I – I have to go".

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Have to go now," he said blankly, and left without another word, Buffy staring after him.

* * *

Buffy felt power unlike any other surge through her, overtaking her. She rose from behind the table where she had been hiding from Adam.

"You can't last much longer," he said.

"We can. We are forever". The words flowed out of her, harmonic and unbidden. She felt both as though she were both buried deep inside herself and at the same time perfectly in control. The deep inside her part watched with amazement as she first stopped and then defeated Adam.

"Buffy? Are you okay?" Risley said behind her after she'd obliterated Adam's power source. She turned to him, rapturous, crackling with energy, and then without warning, the power rushed out of her body. Weakened, she collapsed into his arms.

* * *

"Call me when you get back from the debriefing. I want to know how the government goons treat you".

"I will. Although, I hope you'll forgive me if we don't have that party after all. I'm thinking – maybe a movie?"

"I like movies".

* * *

"Well, at least you guys didn't all dream about that guy with the cheese. Don't know where the hell that came from…"

* * *

Spike stared morosely at the ocean. Word had come through the grapevine that the Initiative was blotted out, Adam no more. She'd done it. Of course. She always did. Still, he'd hoped she might send word that she needed him. He didn't know how else to make things up to her, didn't know if he could.

He'd been so far caught up in allowing himself the pleasure being offered… He hadn't considered that Buffy – the sweet, pure creature that she was – wouldn't get off on degradation. He'd learned the exquisite ecstasy pain could bring from his sire, who had in turn learned it from hers. And after a multitude of lifespans lived in such a manner, sex like that seemed natural to him.

But not to Buffy. The look on her borrowed face – and then... he hadn't reacted right when he'd figured it out. He'd known immediately, seen it in the way her countenance, unfamiliar and yet so achingly hers, had crumpled, seen the light leave her eyes. But he'd been so high on the moment and her blood, the demon completely in control of him…

He was fairly certain she really would kill him if he dared poke his head near Sunnyhell without her say-so. And wouldn't he deserve it?

Spike considered her words. "_If you had a soul_…"

But he didn't. Didn't have one, didn't want one, didn't know where to get one even if he did. Other than the soul Angelus had been cursed with, such a thing had never been heard of, and Spike didn't need a soul that came with such terrible conditions. It was no solution.

A rock flew out of his hand, skipping across the water. If he waited long enough, something was sure to finish her off. All he had to do was hold out until then. Slayers didn't live that long, and her time was sure to come. What was another year or two to a vampire his age? And when she was gone, with no more hope that she might want him or forgive him to bind him to this world, he would take the ring off and fling it out into the ocean, finishing off what he'd attempted on this very beach only months ago.

END PART II


	31. Part III Chapter 31

**Author's Notes: **Love to all of you! Your reviews are like delicious little chocolate truffles, making the day worthwhile.

Just a reminder that nothing is mine but my story. Joss Whedon and his teams of writers are Gods.

And this story really is Spuffy... just bear that in mind thru the next few chapters.

Had to let you know that all my kids wrestle, even my daughter - and boy those girl wrestlers can get really scary!

IDW has a great series of comics, "Spike versus Dracula" (or something like that). A Buffy Omnibus (I'm not sure which one) has the story about Spike and a turned Slayer.

* * *

PART III

"Hey there, stranger!" Buffy called out, chipper. "You're looking all farmer-boy!"

She sat on her front porch in the waning early evening light, watching Riley climb out of his SUV. She hadn't seen him all summer, not even for the movie he'd promised her. Her own break had been dull. She taken some summer courses, staked a few vamps, and hung out with the gang and her mom. All in all, a nice change from the craziness that was her last year.

Riley pulled a huge bouquet of flowers out of the front seat and walked to the porch, holding them out tentatively. "I wasn't sure of your favorite flower, so I think I got them all".

She smiled appreciatively. "And I love 'em all. Thank you!"

"So, about that movie…"

"Tonight's good. Unless you have something to do. Unpacking or…?" The long, warm months had given her plenty of time for reflection, and she felt ready to permanently banish thoughts of vampires, bleached blond or otherwise, and more than ready to take a chance on Riley Finn. She was anxious to get started.

He grinned hugely. "Glad to see you haven't changed your mind. And if the movie goes well, maybe we could go to the beach next weekend, before school starts up?"

"Also a good plan".

* * *

After the movie, Riley walked her to her front door. She wondered if he would want to kiss her, shivering as the _new relationship_ butterflies fluttered about her stomach.

She was glad the flutter was there – it meant the sparkage could be too. Because she hadn't really been sure that it would be. Every time she tried to imagine kissing the man next to her, the memory of cool, full lips would slither in, along with the remembrance of the passionate way they'd devoured her own. She wasn't sure any other kisses could ever make her feel the same way. What was a little sparkage compared to a full-out burn?

Except _those_ kisses were wrong.

When Riley hesitated on the top step, looking like he was trying to make up his mind, she made it up for him, surprising herself by giving him a peck on the cheek. She'd intended to go for the kiss, but hadn't been able to.

"I had a great time. And next time I'll let you pick the movie," she told him.

"Are you kidding me? I loved… whatever it was".

"I see you're not much with the reading of a movie either. What's up with that? If I wanted to read, I'd get the book".

"I think the subtitles were for those of us not fluent in French".

"French-smench. Like anybody even cared what they were saying".

He laughed. "So… can I pick you up Saturday morning? For the beach?"

"Abso-positively!"

* * *

"Come here. Come to me".

"Sorry, Dracula, you're just not my type. I'm way over being a vampire bride. Been there, done that, got the scars for it".

"You have been made a bride already?"

"Sure. Vamp named Spike. Things didn't work out".

"Spike?" Dracula repeated, non-plussed. "That… pathetic fool? Managed to seduce a creature as magnificent and stunning as you?"

"Yeah. So you can see why the thrall has really gone out of our relationship. I'm damaged goods. But I wanna thank you for opening my eyes a little".

"What is this…?"

"My true nature. Want a taste?"

"You cannot run from your darkness".

"Who says I'm running? Come on, Drac. We did your little dance. Let's see if you're any good at mine".

* * *

Riley stared at the latest marks on her neck. "You really broke his thrall all on your own?"

"Yup. Told him – I was so over vampires. He had a hard time accepting it".

"That's… wow. From what I gather, it's never been done".

"Well, I'm not your average girl, am I?"

"No, you're really not". After a beat, he added. "So, all packed for the beach?"

"Yeah". She poked her head back inside. "See you guys!"

"Buffy, are you sure you won't take your sister along?"

"Mom!" she hissed. "It's, like, our second date. I don't need a third wheel!"

"As if I'd want to go with you anyways. And Spike is way cooler than Riley," Dawn retorted. She eeped and ran away as she saw Buffy's face. Her sister had made it perfectly clear she was to stop mentioning Spike, but Dawn didn't seem to be able to listen.

Buffy grabbed Riley's hand, determined to forget the bleached vampire for once and for all.

* * *

Spike stood stock still, gaping at what he saw. His… Buffy. On the beach. The one he thought of as their beach. Laughing and holding hands with the soldier boy. She fairly glowed in the sunlight, tiny shorts and tank top exposing tanned skin, and the sound of her happy laughter cut across all the other noises, tinkling and light, searing into him.

Did she… was she doing it on purpose? Coming here with _him_? Or had she actually forgotten? He wasn't sure which was worse.

He melted into the background, watching them, the pain of it almost driving him to his knees. But to not watch, not see her, would be even harder.

They stopped. Not exactly at the spot where he and Buffy had exchanged vows inside a sandy heart drawn by her finger, but close enough. Close enough that when the lumbering wanker bent down and kissed _his_ wife with all the hesitancy of a first time, Spike had to turn and flee before the howling demon inside him burst forth and killed everything in its path.

He lay on his bed, the same bed where he had made love to his new bride, shaking, sure that he was going to dust simply from the clawing, brutalizing sensation in his dead heart. He would have helped it along, made his ending reality, but he'd made a vow to himself. That he would stick it out until she died. Just… just in case. And Spike took his vows seriously. Even if the girl he loved didn't.

He'd downed an entire bottle of whiskey before the pain even began to recede a little, and another whole one before blissful numbness began to overtake him.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was outside and into town, strolling along, but not casually. Oh no. He was on the prowl.

He found his prey easily enough. A small girl. Pretty, blonde, great smile. She was walking alone down the street, dreamily stepping around other tourists in the evening air. Spike moved silently behind her, waiting for the opportunity to approach.

He hadn't fed from a human since he'd left Sunnydale. It had been his own private penance. A way to drive back the demon. He knew he was emulating the great brooding poof, bagging it, but it hadn't mattered. He'd let his monster free, let it override what his gut had told him, and it had destroyed the one thing he wanted most.

But what did it matter now? He needed it. Needed the comfort of blood, hot and fresh, sliding into him, making him new, stopping the hunger.

The chit stopped in front of a store window, admiring the display, and he sidled up to her. Time for the hunt. She turned her brilliant smile on him and he was reminded, just slightly, of Buffy.

Maybe he'd go home with her. Take solace in her body, soothe his shattered heart in more than one way. He'd ruthlessly suppressed his libido, refusing to have even a wank, never mind touching another girl. It had been near impossible, day after day, not pulling out his cock and stroking it until he found the release he needed. He'd wanted to so badly. Images of Buffy… or, more accurately, Buffy's body, the way he'd seen her last, would float into his mind, leaving him hard as a rock and aching for release.

_Monster_. It was what he was. No denying it. That he could feel remorse over hurting Buffy, and at the same time be unable to force himself to feel horror at what he'd done with Faith only proved it. But he refused to pleasure himself on those memories. He could make that choice, at least. Be a man that much.

The girl was batting her eyelashes at him now, and he turned on the charm. "Hullo there, cutie. How are you?"

"Oooh, British!" the girl squealed. "Sexy!"

It wasn't long before they were back in her hotel room, Spike making her moan in pleasure in time with the creaking springs of the bed. Even dead, every sense screamed at him that the girl under him was wrong. The wrong sighs, the wrong hair, the wrong eyes, the wrong scent.

It wasn't what he wanted. The alcohol that had numbed before now drove his emotions, whipping them to white hot intensity. Instead of solace, he found only emptiness and desolation with another woman. Furious with the young girl for being such a paltry substitute, a black rage overpowered him and he viciously sank his fangs into her neck, violently taking his own pleasure instead, his cock spurting in time with her fading heartbeat.

Sated, Spike rolled off the limp body and cleaned himself in the shower, washing away the dead girl's scent before he went out into the night, aware that he finally felt _right_ for the first time in a long time.

This was who he was. What he was meant to be. He wasn't a sodding, poncy, pathetic man, he was a monster, a creature of the night. Who hunted and killed and bowed to no one else. What right had some human girl to bind _him_, William the Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers, to promises no vampire should ever make?

None. No right, whatsoever.

Spike was free once more.

Night after drunken, blood-soaked night, he left behind the corpse of another dead girl. He moved on to a new town when the body count grew too high, and then again, circling around Sunnydale but never quite going there.

He began to want a companion. Someone to share the thrill of the hunt with. He'd never been much for being alone; after all, he'd chosen Harmony over solitude. He couldn't bear the thought of going back to her, though. The vampire considered each woman he met, but never turned them. He couldn't actually stand any of the birds he went home with and it always ended with him brutally killing them, no matter his original intention. No, in all his life, there had only been a few women he'd wanted to spend forever with. He'd already killed two of them. There'd been no forever for his mother. And the pain of losing Drusilla was still fresh enough that he couldn't stand to think about it.

There was only one left. One still alive.

Buffy.

He'd happily spend eternity with her, but it wasn't an option. Not with what he was. She'd bloody well made that clear.

Unless… maybe. If he turned her.

She'd want him then. Need him. Love him in the way a vampire loves their Sire. Completely and forever.

The thought snaked through his mind, calling to him, planting sinful images inside his head. He imagined her as a creature of the night, pale and vicious, blood dripping from her fangs as they shagged on top of their latest victim.

What would she be like as a vampire? Spike had once met a Slayer who'd been turned, and she'd been the most inhuman creature he'd ever laid eyes on. More so than Angelus, and that was a feat. Would his Buffy be the same? Would he be able to love her still, if she were cold and cruel? The memory of his freshly-turned mother flitted through his head, and he pushed it away.

With every new victim, every additional bottle of booze, each further rage-fueled decent into the evil he'd promised her he'd renounce, the idea took hold, refusing to leave. In the end, he convinced himself it was a good one.

He was nothing but a monster, and the only way to have what he wanted was to make her a monster too.

* * *

Buffy sat on the back steps, head on her knees, crying softly in the still night air. Did the Powers hate her that much? Life was finally good – she was doing great in school, there were no major crises, everything was going well for her friends. She even had a sweet, cute new boyfriend, who was totally fine with the fact that she wanted to take things extremely slow.

Okay, there was the sister that was a Key, whatever that meant, and needed protecting from some freakishly powerful woman. And, sure, she'd recently almost died thanks to an 80's reject vamp getting a lucky hit in her side with her own stake, but that wasn't too unreasonable.

No, what was unreasonable was finding out that her mother might be sick. Really sick. Like… dying sick. It just wasn't fair. Even worse, this wasn't the kind of problem she could fix. And she had no idea what she'd do without her mom.

She snuffled, then hearing the crackle of leaves underfoot, looked up.

Spike was towering over her, his face as cold and evil as she'd ever seen it. Wonderful. Well, maybe he'd finally decided to kill her. It couldn't be any worse than him loving her. The sight of him made her heart drop like a lead weight.

"Why are you here?" Buffy couldn't bring herself to sound angry or threatening. Only broken. He didn't belong here. She should be killing him, but there wasn't enough energy to hate him.

She was empty.

He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, seeming to really see her. An intense look appeared on his face, the one he sported when he seemed to be unearthing her deepest secrets.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

He didn't deserve an answer. He'd forfeited that right. "I don't wanna talk about it".

"Is… is there something I can do?"

All she wanted was for him to go away. She turned her head, refusing to look at him, but he sat down on the porch next to her, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

A part of her wanted to lean into him, let him comfort her, and she hated that part of herself. How could she still want him, need him? It was sick. She stared straight ahead, unable to form thoughts, words.

Eventually he slid off his spot to kneel in front of her, looking directly into her face.

"Tell me what you want me to do".

Buffy could smell the alcohol washing off of him and she grimaced. "I want you to go away before I have to get up and kill you". He didn't move. "Why are you here, Spike? I thought I made it clear enough that even you would get it. I don't want to see you ever again, remember?"

"Yeah, well, I was planning on fixing that".

"By, what, annoying me 'til I kill you?"

Anger flashed across his face, and he looked dangerous once more. "I'd be careful if I were you. I'm not your pet vamp anymore".

She stared at him, aghast. "You're killing again".

"Aren't you the clever one?" He was all cocky bravado, but Buffy saw the flash of shame in his eyes. Just briefly, then it was gone. Not enough to stay her hand.

She jumped up, casting her eyes about for a weapon, wincing as she twisted too fast. Spike noticed and zeroed in on her almost-recovered wound, prodding her side with a hard finger. "What happened here?" he demanded as she gasped in pain.

"Oh, you know, just another vamp wanting a piece of me. Story of my life". She broke off a piece of railing. "Go away. Before I kill you".

"We've been through this. You won't kill me, Slayer. Can't do it".

"Trust me, things have changed. I'm serious Spike. Leave me alone. I'm actually happy for once".

"Right, which is why you're bawling your eyes out all alone".

Startled, she couldn't help but reply, "That's – that's different. Mom…" Buffy faltered, tears falling again.

"Joyce? What about Joyce?" He was so earnest in his concern, she had to tell him.

"She's sick. Maybe… we don't know. Bad headaches. Dizziness. She's going in for a CATscan. She just told me".

In a flash he was holding her. "Oh, luv, I'm so sorry. It'll be okay. These modern doctors are bang-up whizzes, have her fixed up in no time. Don't you worry".

The tenderness in his voice cut her to pieces. Spike was all the more a monster for his ability to hide it behind his remaining shreds of humanity.

Despite the pain his proximity caused her, she let him hold her for a fraction of a moment, taking comfort from the familiarity of his body, the smell of him, before she shoved him away, far more gently than she should have.

"I don't know how to say this so you understand. Why are you here?"

He gave a mocking laugh. "Was going to turn you, wasn't I?"

She was speechless, staring at him in revulsion. "I don't believe you. You have the audacity to – to touch me – after telling me you're killing again, and then you think you're going to _turn_ me? You make me sick".

"See, you wouldn't feel that way after. Be a bloody improvement".

Impotent anger burned through her. He was right, she couldn't kill him. She didn't have it in her, not tonight, no matter how much he deserved it.

Maybe if she were cruel, he'd get the hint, go away, leave Sunnydale again.

"Let me tell you something. I wouldn't want you even then. You honestly think I could bear an eternity with _you_?" There. The look on his face gave her a sick sense of satisfaction. She dug deeper. "Dracula offered me the same and I turned him down. And he's, you know, _Dracula_. If I ever got turned, it wouldn't be by you. It would never be you. You're nothing. You're beneath me".

His mouth worked silently, no words able to escape. She shoved him backwards, so he pinwheeled down the steps and splatted on his rear end, completely undignified. Buffy laughed at him, even though part of her wanted to run to him and hold him, smooth away the hurt and anguish on his face. The part of her that was wrong.

"God, what did I ever see in you?" With that parting shot she went inside, closing him out of her life.

* * *

Well, that hadn't gone quite right. What else was bloody new? Spike sat there on his arse, tears silently streaming down his face, wondering why he'd come over all bleeding pathetic and soft the moment he'd seen her. And if that weren't enough, she'd thrown it all in his face, humiliated him, and walked away as if he were nothing to her.

It was more than a vampire could take. He had his sodding pride, didn't he? He wiped the tears away and climbed to his feet. She was right. He shouldn't turn her. He should just kill her. He'd get over it, move on some day. Time healed everything, and he had nothing but time.

He was viciously brushing himself off when the door opened once more, and he couldn't stay the hopeful expression that lodged on his face.

The Niblet was there, looking at him in surprised dismay. "Oh. No wonder she's crying again. You're here".

"Crying again?" he repeated dumbly.

"Hello? That's all she's done since, like, you kidnapped her last year. I've never seen her cry so much. Even over Angel". She gave him a dirty look. "You shouldn't have come back, Spike. She was happy, with Riley. She'd finally stopped crying. Now you've gone and ruined it again".

Bloody hell. And there was the guilt he'd covered up with booze and blood, back full force. He didn't know how his heart could hurt so when it was long dead.

He stepped back. "I'll – I'll just go".

She called him back before he could take another step. "Spike? I missed you. A lot. But I'd rather see Buffy happy more".

From the mouths of babes…

_Bugger_.


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Notes:**

If you're looking for a good ambiguous Spike story, I recommend 'Let's get Lost' by Herself. It can be found over on Nocturnal Light. The only thing I don't like about Herself is the way her Spike talks - he sounds like Lady Chatterly's Lover. But the writing more than makes up for it. Anyhow, that story's been hovering in the back of my mind for months now... I can't exorcize it, so I want to consign more people to the same fate!

Thank you thank you for reviews! You make me anxious to keep posting!

* * *

The rest of the night, Spike had wandered aimlessly through the town, lost in thought. He'd endeavored to drown his pain in booze and blood, but he seemed to have gone off his feed once more. He'd tried to eat, twice, but each time Buffy's tear-stained face would pop into his mind, along with Dawn telling him he was the reason for her tears, and the terrified Happy Meals had run from his suddenly limp grasp. Seeing the Slayer had reminded him that he _cared_, much as he'd wanted to forget.

He tried to bring back his rage, his conviction that he should kill her and end it all, but it was no use.

Morning found him standing outside Buffy's empty house, staring longingly through the door he couldn't enter, worn and broken.

The sound of an SUV pulling into the driveway made him turn around. When he saw who it was, his shoulders sagged for a moment, and then he straightened up.

"Spike. I thought Buffy told you to never come back".

"Relax, Cardboard. Your super-honey already knows I'm here".

Riley frowned. "Yeah? Well you can go now. You've hurt her enough. Get lost, you're not invited in – but guess what? I am". He took hold of the doorknob and went inside.

"She's not there," Spike called out.

Riley stepped back outside. "How d'you know? You stalking her?"

The vampire shot him a withering glare. "No. I talked to her. She's at the hospital".

"Hospital? Why?"

Spike was taken aback. If Buffy was so cozy with the boy, why didn't he know? "Mum is sickly. Buffy took her to the hospital for a little prod and probe. Bite-sized one went too". He couldn't resist getting a dig in. "Funny her not calling you about it. I've known since last night".

Riley loomed over him, jaw ticking in anger. "Spike. You need to leave Buffy alone. Or I will kill you".

"Oooh. Big words for a man who can't hurt me".

"I'll find a way. Believe me, I'm highly motivated".

"Or," Spike lunged at Riley, pinning him to the porch before the larger man could even react. "Here's an idea. How 'bout I just kill you".

Spike could smell the fear emanating from the soldier, but Riley kept his calm. "Good idea. I'm sure Buffy will appreciate the gesture. You might even win her back that way," he taunted.

Grinding his boot into Riley's chest until something cracked, Spike growled, "But it would make _me_ feel so much better". He stepped back from the supine form, rummaging distractedly in his coat for his smokes. "Still," he said as Riley cautiously sat up, unsure of what was going on, "I've been told you make my girl happy. She's said it. Little Bit said it. Must be true". He lit his fag and took a deep, agitated drag. "And, monster that I am, I only seem to bring her pain. So. I'm going to try to be the better man and let her have what she wants".

Riley gave a tight, pained laugh. "Yeah. I'm what she wants. I wish I could agree". Spike's eyebrows shot up and Riley sighed. "She's… trying. To be happy with me. But I can see she's forcing it. Her heart's not in it. She won't let me anywhere near her. Not in a way that matters". He leaned back against the railing, head back, eyes closed, trying to draw breath despite the broken ribs.

Speaking shallowly, he continued, "She's lost her ability to trust, I think. She's not the same girl I met". He coughed wetly. "Last year, I told her the way she loved, trusted, was a wonderful thing, and I never wanted to see her change. I don't know though, feels like it's gone. I've been trying to give her space, time, whatever she needs, but…"

His eyes snapped open and pierced Spike's. "I think you broke her".

Spike gaped at the other man, mouth slack, until his cigarette burned to the end and singed his fingers. With a yelp and a shake of his hand, he dropped the butt and ground it out.

"No…" he protested. "She got over Angelus. She's strong. She'll recover. She has to".

Shrugging carefully, Riley said, "Not any time soon".

Too much. Too much guilt. "Bloody hell". He creased his forehead, thinking hard. "Maybe it's just you?" he said desperately.

"I guess we can only hope". Silence ensued, dragging on, until Riley asked, "So what now?"

"Want me to drive you to the hospital?" Spike offered. Riley squinted at him in amazement. "Buffy's already there".

"She told me you were strange for a vampire. Sure, why not".

* * *

"Riley!" Buffy rushed up to him and took his hand. "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Definitely". She leaned in for a kiss. "Ah. Starting to feel better already".

He considered her. "So, Spike's in town," he said flatly. "You never said".

"Oh. Yeah. He stopped by last night, but I kinda forgot since it was right in the middle of finding out we had to come to the hospital today".

"Which I also didn't know about until Spike mentioned it".

She took in his hurt face. "Oh. Riley. I'm sorry. I've just been all with the crazy over mom. I guess I never actually called, did I?"

"Nope. Had to hear it from Spike, which was a bit of a kick in the pants".

"Geez, you guys sit down and have a heart-to-heart or what?"

"Oddly enough, we did".

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, worried. "And?"

"Oh, just your usual. He threatened to kill me, broke some ribs, then drove me to the hospital so I could get taped up and find you". He shook his head. "He really is weird".

"He's just going to be weirdly dead soon".

* * *

Spike lurked in the corridors until he saw Buffy leaving, then stole into Joyce's room. Her eyes were closed, so he softly whispered, "Joyce?" She didn't respond. He shifted uneasily for a moment, then sat by the bed and took her hand.

He'd overheard the doctor telling the Summers women about the glioma, and his heart had sunk, both for Buffy and her mum. Buffy had troubles enough without her mum getting sick, and Joyce was a good lady. She didn't deserve such a fate.

The scene reminded him of his own mother's illness. He hadn't been able to save her, wouldn't be able to help Joyce either. He felt completely useless, and wondered if Buffy felt the same.

After a time, the lady stirred and opened her eyes. "Spike," she blinked in surprise.

"Hullo, Joyce. How're you feeling?" He started to let go of her hand, but she tightened her grip.

"Oh, sort of like I have a tumor in my head".

Squeezing her hand, he said reassuringly, "Well, sounds like the doc knows his stuff. 'M sure he'll have you right as rain in no time".

"It must be nice to know you can never get sick. To be strong and healthy and young forever".

"Yeah, but there's a bit of a downside. Being evil tends to land in the negative column for most".

She looked at him very seriously. "And are you? Evil?"

He didn't know how to answer that one.

* * *

Buffy walked out of her mom's hospital room, dazed, as Joyce called Dawn in to tell her the situation. She saw Riley coming towards her.

"You okay? You look pretty beat up".

"Minimal damage of the fighting kind. It's all… of the other kind". She could feel the tears coming on, again, but she tried to hold them back.

"Come here," he told her, pulling her into his arms. He felt warm and safe. Solid. "It's okay… You need to let it out. I'm right here". He was. He was right there, waiting patiently for her to trust him. She wanted to. She tried to. But it didn't work.

"I can't. Not now. They need me, you know?" She backed away. "If I start now, I won't be able to stop". She heard her mom calling her, and gave Riley's hand a squeeze before she left him standing there.

* * *

"If this is going to be too much for you, we can make your mother perfectly comfortable right here," the doctor told her.

Buffy considered it for less than a split second. There was no way she was going to make her mom stay in the hospital when she so desperately wanted to go home. "No, no, I've got it. And I really appre-"

"You look like your father when he cries," Joyce burst out harshly.

Buffy blanched, then recovered. "She's… I told you, she's been…"

"I know. Joyce. _Joyce_". He got her attention. "We're done here. Why don't you take your girls home now?"

"Yes. Yes, thank you. Thanks for all your help, Doctor".

"I'll see you in a couple of days".

Buffy took her mom's arm, guiding her down to the elevator, and then out into the parking lot, Dawn on the other side. She had her mom into the car, buckled up, and was heading around to the driver's side, psyching herself up to drive, when Spike suddenly came barreling towards her.

"What the -?" She moved to intercept him, but he shoved her out of the way and dove beneath the Jeep, re-emerging on the other side with a creature in his grasp. Eyes wide, she watched him battle with the thing for a moment, before recovering her wits and joining the fray.

The creature was giving them a hell of a fight. Dawn rolled down her window. "Buffy? What can I do?"

"I need a weapon – stake, knife, what have we got?"

Dawn disappeared again, then reappeared, tossing a wicked blade to her sister. "Good thing we keep sharp objects in our car".

Buffy stabbed the creature as Spike held it down, and it died with a horrible squeal. She stared at it. "I wonder if Giles knows what it is?"

He nudged it with his toe. "Small enough. Load it in the boot, he can take a gander later".

"Ew," she grimaced, squeamish.

"Bloody hell". Spike hoisted it up and nodded at the trunk. "Open up. Spread the tarp out, stop the ooze from getting in the upholstery".

Demon loaded, they stood there behind the Jeep, looking at each other, one hand each on the raised liftgate. Buffy wasn't quite sure what was supposed to come next. Somehow, bitching him out for still being in Sunnydale didn't seem right after what he'd just done. Nor did threatening to kill him. "Thanks," she said eventually.

"S'nothing. Get in the back. I'll drive". She was going to protest, then changed her mind, realizing her driving was a shaky prospect on a good day.

At the house, Buffy silently helped her mother inside, then took a shower and put on ooze-free clothes while Spike carried the demon into the back yard. He was sitting on the back porch when she went outside to check on him.

She sat next to him, the remaining empty space on the step leaving them close but not quite touching. "How'd you know it was there?" When he didn't answer, she said, "You were stalking me again, weren't you?"

"Not stalking. Checking up on your mum. Wanted to see how she was doing".

"Well, thanks. Once more". A pause, and then she added, "You know this doesn't change anything, right?"

He looked up at the night sky. "Figured". Neither of them moved.

_Stupid to trust a vampire_, her inner voice warned, but she couldn't help it. She had to know. With a shaky breath, she asked in a tiny voice, "Why'd you start killing again?"

"Besides because I'm a vamp?" Buffy slumped against the railing at that. What other reason did she need? He flinched at her reaction, swallowed, and went on. "There was a girl. And she wasn't you. I couldn't bear it… so I offed her".

Welcome to the vampire mind. "Seriously? Usually, most people in that situation would, I don't know. Just leave. Maybe with a line about how it's me, not you. Not kill them".

"Not most people, am I? Not even people".

Resignedly, she replied. "No. You're not". He didn't say anything else, so she asked, "And then?"

"And then, once I started, why stop? Didn't seem to matter anymore".

Her insides twisted. She should have killed him long ago. Before she'd let herself care about him. If only she weren't so pathetically stupid. "So you're still…?"

"No, stopped, after all. Remembered that I love you".

She winced and stiffened. "I _hate_ you".

Spike looked at his feet. "Can't say as I blame you".

"Good. Because I _really_ hate you," she added emphatically. "I hate what you've done to me. I hate how you've fucked up my life. I hate how you made me care about you. And mostly? I hate you because every time I'm near you, you leave me a little more broken. And I can't seem to put myself back together, no matter how hard I try".

She still sat next to him, though, still didn't move away. Still wanted to lean into him, let him take her troubles away. It just wasn't right, the way she still wanted him.

Lost in her own thoughts, it was a moment before Buffy realized he was crying, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes. She looked away. "Don't do that. Don't pretend you have feelings. Don't pretend you care".

"You know I do".

"No. I don't. I don't know anything when it comes to you, except that you deserve to die. You're nothing but a killer, Spike. You're evil and soulless and – and unredeemable".

"Prob'ly true, pet".

"You gonna give me the ring, then? Make it easy on me?"

"Heard talk of a new player in town. Glorificus. Sounds bad. Thought maybe you could use my help," he offered, eyes still downcast, peering sideways at her from beneath lowered lashes.

"We took care of Adam without you. Don't need your help. Don't need _you_".

Spike climbed to his feet, shoulders hunched, and went down the steps. At the bottom, he turned and looked at her, tears still swimming in his blue eyes. His hands shook a little as he asked, "Why'd you do it?"

"Huh? Do what?"

"Take _him_ there. To _our_ beach".

Oh. That.

"I was there," he went on. "I saw you. Do you hate me that much?"

She squirmed, the porch suddenly uncomfortable beneath her. "It was a surprise to me too. Riley picked it, I didn't know," she said, half-apologetically. "What was I supposed to do? Tell him we had to leave because…?" She picked at a thread on her pants. "Besides. I'm done with you. I've moved on. I can't exactly avoid places you and I have been. I'd never be able to patrol again".

His voice cracked. "S'not just a place we've been. It meant something. It was _special_".

She stood up and looked down at him, willing herself to remain distant. She pulled up the mental image of Spike violating her body, quickly followed by Spike taking back the Gem of Amarra. And then his confession that he was killing again. Buffy found the strength to remain cold.

"Key word – _was_. Not anymore".

They stared at each other, unable to move. His eyes – so vulnerable, so human – beckoned to her, but she wouldn't let herself fall prey to his promises again. Hearing the latch on her gate click, she finally looked away, to see Riley and number of other soldiers filtering silently into the darkened back yard. They froze when they realized it wasn't empty. Riley's eyes flicked over Spike and back away with a pained look, and then he saw the dead creature on the ground.

"Buffy, thank goodness. We were tracking the Quellar and I was afraid it might come here".

She walked down the steps, brushing past the still-trembling vampire to stand beside her boyfriend. "Quellar? You know what it is?"

"Yeah. Giles has the scoop".

She glanced at the other men. "I don't suppose you boys want the carcass, do you? Save me the clean-up?"

They began to move to the demon, except for Riley, who holstered his weapon and took her in his arms. "Everything okay?" he asked.

She leaned against him, loosely holding him back. "Everything's good now".

When she broke from their embrace, Spike was gone.

* * *

"Really, my pleasure," the surgeon said. "You're mom's going to be in recovery for awhile – you should all go home, get some rest, relax…"

Buffy smiled widely. "Recovery. I like that word". She put her arm around Dawn. "Come on, brat. Let's go".

On the way out, she saw Spike at the end of a corridor. He didn't approach, only gave her a questioning look. She gave him a thumbs-up and he returned the gesture, then gave her a tiny bow and turned away with a swirl of leather. Despite the sharp pain in her heart, she couldn't help but smile. The vampire had panache.

* * *

Buffy walked into her house that evening and let out a soft gasp of surprise. The coffee table was covered with her favorite foods, the radio was playing softly, and the lights were off, the entire room illuminated by dozens of flickering candles. Riley stood nervously in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Wow. That's… for me?"

"You deserved something special. After all you've been through".

She went to him, kissed him thoroughly. "You must be the best boyfriend ever".

"Like I said. Deserve it," he replied with a goofy smile. "It was a lot for you to handle".

"Yeah, but nothing compared to what my mom had to go through".

"You were incredible. Stayed strong the entire time. You never even cried".

"Oh, I cried. There were a few times I was afraid I'd never be able to stop". She cuddled into him, swaying to the music. "But it's all better now. And I have you here with me. Whatever shall I do with you?"

He kissed her tenderly. "Whatever you want".

After dinner, they snuggled on the couch, kissing hungrily. Riley's hands crept under her shirt, and for the first time, she let them. He moved slowly, hesitantly, until he was cupping her breasts in his large hands, and he let out a groan of pleasure. She wanted to do the same, but there was… nothing. It felt good, but… not the way she wanted it to. His hands felt wrong. Too big, too warm.

She tried though. Riley had been waiting patiently for her to be ready, and he was sweet and dependable. Just what she needed right now. As he became more and more aroused, Buffy tried to pretend she was as well, for his sake, but he must have realized she wasn't with him.

"Buffy – is this okay? Do you want to stop?"

Grateful for the out, she replied, "You know, it feels so good, but… I guess my mind is still on my mom. I'm not giving you all my attention. And I really want to… for our first time. Y'know?"

With a visible effort, he pulled back. "Sure. Of course. I understand".

"Do you? I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. Which I know is a line, but… it's true". She didn't miss the irony of her words.

He held her more chastely. "It's okay. Whatever you need. I told you before, you're worth the wait".

"Can – would you just hold me while I go to sleep?"

"Of course. Come on".

* * *

Spike stood under the tree, smoking, lurking. Stalking. He knew it. He'd come by to see if Buffy needed anything, but Captain Cardboard had already been there, and Spike hadn't been able to leave, wondering what they were doing in there, together, alone. When her bedroom light went on and then, soon after, off again, without the new boy leaving, he kicked angrily at the tree.

She'd told him she was moving on, hadn't she? And he'd even, ponce that he was, given his sodding blessing to the whole thing. Just to make her happy. So she'd quit crying. Because of _him_.

Didn't mean he didn't want to tear everybody's throat out though, thinking about what might be going on up there. Furious with himself for being such a useless prat, he resolved to leave town. For good this time. No forwarding address, no looking back. Right after he got properly soused.

Except… just as Spike was ready to leave, to go and drown his sorrows, the wanker had crept out furtively and taken off down the street at a hurry. That didn't bode well. Spike followed him, wondering what was going on. Seeing where soldier-boy went left the vampire angry in a whole new way.

When Riley stepped outside hours later, weak and pale, Spike rushed him, pinning him to the brick wall by his neck. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, mate?" he snarled furiously.

The trapped man squawked and choked, unable to answer, until Spike loosened his grip. "You want to be bit, you stupid tosser? I'll bloody bite you. I'll sodding kill you!"

Riley looked away, ashamed. "I was trying to… understand her," he gasped.

"What the hell are you on about?"

"I – She doesn't say much about it, but I'm not stupid. I can see how she feels about you, by the way she refuses to talk about you. Your past. It must have been intense. And she doesn't seem to be able to let you go".

"I'm still not following. How does going to a vampire whore fix that?"

"It's just… First Angel. I've heard… stories… about how in love she was with him. Then you came along. And I know you couldn't have destroyed her the way you did if she didn't love you. Then she let Dracula bite her". Spike scowled at Dracula's name, but Riley didn't notice. "I know it wasn't love, but… She was into him, even if she wouldn't admit it. So I'm thinking… why not me? Is it because she's too broken? Or – is it what you said – is it just _me_? Because I'm not a vampire?" Spike had completely let him go now, and he sagged, rubbing his neck.

Furious, the vampire retorted, "So you thought, what, getting suck jobs from two-bit vampire trulls would even the score? You pillock. You think _I_ broke her. What do you think will happen to her when she finds out what _you've_ done? Mr. Sweet and Dependable?"

Grimacing, Riley said, "I know. It wasn't the plan – to keep doing it. But it's, um… addictive. I kinda get it now".

Spike gave him a disgusted look. "It was never about the biting. Not for Buffy. She's no addict".

"But I'm still not enough for her".

Spike considered him. "Think you're right, there. Girl seems to need a little monster in her man. 'Cept it's the monster what makes her cry, innit?"


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Notes:**

Ahem. Apparently I wasn't exactly clear last time... I was in no way dissing Herself - I rather thought the fact that I was recommending her fic made that obvious, but sometimes things can be taken the wrong way. If you're not familiar with Lady Chatterly's Lover, it's a classic novel by DH Lawrence, and the male protagonist has a very... distinct voice, which Herself's Spike imitates. Whether on purpose or not, I don't know. It's not _bad, _but if you've read both it can be disconcerting, especially because Spike doesn't talk like that on BtVS. And when I say I want to consign you to the same fate - a good story should stick in your mind and needle at you, making you think about it. 'Let's get Lost' does that.

Apparently there is a sequel, which I didn't know. It's a permanent WIP, but reading it eases that needle feeling you're left with at the end of the other, so I recommend that too. The sequel can be found here, but you must join her LJ community to read herself-nyc-fic DOT livejournal DOT com/36394 DOT html#cutid1

I made a fic rec because I feel like I've read everything *good* out there and I'm always excited when I come across something new - so I wanted to do the same for other readers - especially since I know I attracted a lot of readers with the evil Spike beginning - and her story sort of fits in that category.

Hopefully that clears it up, and on to other stuff. Thanks for your awesome reviews!

* * *

The thought passed through Buffy's mind – for the hundredth time that day – that it would have been their anniversary. Had there been anything actually worth celebrating. She pushed away the notion that, spell-induced or not, no matter what she'd told him on her back porch, the memory of marrying Spike was still sorta special to her. Definitely not the lack of free will part. But the vows, the tenderness, _that _she knew had come from Spike himself and not magic. _That _part of it was... magical.

Based on the way he'd acted, the obvious grief he'd had that she and Riley had gone to _their _beach, she was fairly certain he felt the same way, that there was no way he had forgotten what had happened one year ago today.

And yet, she hadn't seen pale hide nor bleached hair from Spike. Or heard from him. Or… or anything. She told herself she was in no way disappointed. It was what she wanted. To forget about the stupid, _evil_, peroxided pest and move on with her life.

* * *

She was training in the back room of the Magic Box when Riley walked in. "Hey, Buff. Can we talk?" he asked, shutting the door.

She wiped the sweat off with a towel. "What's up?"

He looked at her so intensely she started to fidget. Finally, he said, "I want you to know, I'm crazy about you. So crazy it makes me – crazy".

"Crazy – check," she said nervously.

"But you don't feel the same way about me". She started to protest and he cut her off. "Don't – don't say it just to make me feel better. I can tell. And I know you've been through some rough stuff, but I have to say, I don't think that's it. I think it's just… me. I'm not what you need".

She was angry now. "And just what do I need? Since you seem to know me so much better than I know myself?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just know it's not me".

"So is that it, then? Are we breaking up?" _And on my anniversary_? she thought irrationally.

He got softer, tried to take her in his arms, but she resisted. "Buffy… I don't… God knows I don't want to let you go. But I think it's going to be best for both of us. And – and now is a good time. The military wants me back. Deep undercover, no contact with civilians. The transport leaves in two days. I know it's sudden, but they just told me last night".

That was… He wanted to not just leave her, but to go far away too? Was the same thing doomed to happen over and over? Tearing up, she asked, "You're going to leave?"

"Look at me. We've got two days to think about it. If you think – really, honestly think – there's a chance for us, then I'll stay. I've told you before, you're worth it. I will stay if you want. But if you look deep into your heart and find that I'm not the one for you, then I want to be on that transport".

* * *

Spike rang the doorbell to Buffy's house and waited patiently while Joyce shuffled slowly from the living room to the front door. "Spike!" she exclaimed, standing there in her blue bathrobe. "It's good to see you!"

The lady was always so kind to him. "Hullo Joyce. How are you feeling?"

"I'm getting much better, thank you. Buffy's not here at the moment, could I take a message for her?"

"Actually, I came by to see you. Thought you could do with a bit of company".

"You're very sweet. Would you like to co- or, never mind, I'll come sit outside. Some sun would do me good". He took her arm and guided her to the porch swing, and they sat together, the swing moving lightly beneath them.

"So. Did you find a place to stay?" she asked.

"Yeah. Got a nice pad, over by the Espresso Pump. Bit more high-class than a crypt, at any rate".

"You like living like a human?"

"It's nice to have the option. And, yeah," he smiled serenely, looking up at the sky. "I like the sun. It's – when you're room temp, the warm sun feels good".

"And you're finding enough work? Because I could use -"

"Thanks, Joyce. But I'd rather not. Don't think Buffy would like it".

"I don't think Buffy would like you stealing either".

"Don't think Buffy likes much anything 'bout me anymore. But she's especially not gonna want me near you, I s'pect. Anyhow," he said with a naughty grin, "a bloke needs to keep some of his vices". She gave him an exasperated, motherly look.

"Speaking of the Slayer," he went on, "how's she been? She handling her – Riley – leaving okay?"

Joyce sighed. "As best as can be expected. It'll just take time".

"How about me – think she'll forgive me? With time?" Spike asked quietly.

With another sigh, she said, "I don't know what you did – and I'm pretty sure I don't want to. I've never known the… less nice side of you. Except," she said, reconsidering, "the first time I saw you. You were trying to kill my daughter. Back at Sunnydale High".

He smiled. "And you hit me with an axe. Knew I liked you even then". Stretching out, he cockily added, "Good times".

They sat in silence for awhile, until he saw Joyce trying to stifle a yawn, so he said, "Back inside with you. I'll come visit again, yeah?"

"It would be lovely". She touched his cheek, briefly. "You have it in you to be a good man, William. I hope you can make things right".

* * *

Buffy patrolled the cemetery, walking past where Spike's crypt had been. She hadn't been inside since that last time, with Faith, but she checked it now. She hadn't seen Spike since the day of her mother's surgery, hadn't talked to him since the night of the Quellar demon. She didn't even know if he was still in town.

Creeping through the obviously empty crypt, she didn't know how she felt about that. She'd told him to go. Repeatedly. Said she didn't want him around. Except… she did. Even though she wanted to dust him, knowing he cared about her mother's health, having him help her kill that Quellar demon, had been… of the good.

Of course, he'd had that stupid plan to turn her. Fortunately it had gone as well as any of his plans – not at all. And there was the admission he'd been killing again. Which was definitely of the bad.

Never mind what had happened here, down below.

Standing at the top of the ladder, she steeled herself to go down, to see the bed where she'd been tied. And found out it was for naught. The downstairs was empty, everything scavenged away, nothing left but the piles of bones and a whole lot of dust. She sat on the concrete step, recalling what had happened in this room. What she'd seen Spike doing to her.

Thinking of that night still hurt, but months and months had numbed the pain to a dull ache. Enough time had passed that she could almost consider it calmly.

Spike could be so incredibly... incredible. He could be sweet, charming, kind, tender. He could be romantic. Fun. Strong. Loyal. But none of that negated the fact that he could also be cruel and violent. That he continued to fuck up, despite how hard he tried. It almost wasn't his fault. It was simply his nature, and he didn't seem to be able to rise above it.

No matter how much Buffy wanted to forgive him for all his mistakes, she found she couldn't. She went back up the ladder, hoping he was somewhere far away and she wouldn't be faced with the need to try to dust him. Because she'd really have to. How many people had died because she'd neglected her duty? Had died because she loved his beautiful, expressive face and tender, romantic heart?

She came to a sudden standstill, panicking, cold sweat trickling down her back. _Not love. Never love. Just… like. Way too much to be healthy._ But she did. She loved – _loved!_ no matter how much time had passed – the good parts of him, even if she hated the parts that were evil, the parts of him that were wrong and had hurt her. It was why she had told Riley to go, right? Because she'd realized she couldn't stop loving a monster.

It was more than her poor heart could take.

* * *

Buffy stood, staring at the door, a sick feeling of dread overtaking her. She couldn't touch Glory, and… how could she protect Dawn? Her mom?

Joyce entered. "Buffy, who was that?"

"Pack a bag".

"What? Why?" her mom cried, while Dawn glared at her.

"Look. That woman. She's dangerous. I can't leave you here alone. I have to – go see what the Council knows, but I don't want you anywhere near them either, and don't argue because I have my reasons," she cut off Dawn's attempt to protest.

When her mom returned she asked, "But where should we go?"

She'd been trying to decide that as she waited. "I don't know. Hotel, maybe? I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish Spike was still here. He's the only one I know strong enough to even stall Glory".

Quietly, Joyce said, "He is".

"Huh? He is? But I haven't seen him at all!"

"He's been around. He's just… he's giving you some space".

Buffy stared at her mom. "What are you talking about?"

With a guilty smile, she said, "He's been coming to visit me. Check up on me. We're … friends. But he knows you're angry with him, so he's been avoiding you".

Her mind was a whirl of emotions. Disbelief, anger.

Relief.

"I don't suppose you'd know where to find him, Mom?" she asked, eyebrows raised accusingly.

"Actually… I just left his place".

Buffy sagged. "Do I even want to know why you were there?"

"You're going to find it hard to believe, but… he wanted some decorating advice".

She could only stare. Finally, she said, "Well. Um. Let's go".

* * *

"Joyce! I'm pleased to see you again! And the Niblet! Come in," Spike effused. He saw Buffy step around the corner, from where she'd been out of sight. He swallowed, schooling his face to neutral. "Slayer," he added politely. "So what can I do you for?"

"I… I need your help," she admitted, hands twisting together. "You're the only one strong enough. To protect them".

He examined her, noting the strain in her eyes. He'd seen her about, always from a distance, always when she didn't know he was watching her. The sight of her worried face made his chest ache, but all he said was, "Thought you didn't need my help". She'd dismissed him from her life, after all. A bloke finally gets the hint after awhile.

She blew out a frustrated breath. "I may have… changed my mind. Please? I can't handle this alone".

Spike looked down at her, suppressing the emotions he felt. "Hmmm. Guess not. All right then". His face softened a little. "Glory?"

"Yup. Just – keep them safe. Please".

"I'll do it. But I'll tell you something, Slayer. I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for them. 'Cause I like your mum. She treats me right. And little Sis too".

Biting her lip, she looked at him with those glistening green eyes, and he almost took her in his arms, kissed the pain away. But only almost. He had his pride, and having her come to him, ask him for something, was a small victory. No need to ruin it by getting all soft now.

From inside, Joyce called, "Passions is almost on. Do you mind if I turn on the TV?"

"Got to go," he said, preparing to close the door. "I've got 'em safe, don't worry. See you". And he shut the door in her face so he didn't have to see her big, confused eyes anymore.

* * *

Lurking in the shadows near the porch, Spike lit yet another fag, trying to work up the courage to go to the bloody door. If only the rest of the sodding little Scoobies weren't there, he would have done it, but he wasn't ready to face them. He didn't know what the Slayer had told them about… him and Faith. Not that he cared what they thought, but he didn't need the aggravation of their sharp comments. Any which way, he wasn't likely to get a positive reaction from anyone other than the Slayer's mum and kid sis.

Still, it was her birthday. He wanted to give her something. She'd liked the Valentine's chocolates well enough last year, said it had helped with the stress, so he thought a box of chocolates would be a safe bet. Girl had been plenty stressed when she'd come back to his flat to pick up her family, so stressed that she had barely even noticed Spike, other than to distractedly thank him for his help and then leave, shoulders hunched.

Didn't matter if he was playing hard to get. He still didn't want to see her like that.

Spike heard something rustling around the corner and went to investigate, running into a startled Dawn. He could hear her heart pounding, right through her high-pitched, "Geez! Lurk much?"

"Wasn't lurking". Yeah he was, but like he'd admit it. "Was standing about. It's a whole different vibe".

"What is – is that a present for Buffy?" she asked curiously. Spike tried to hide it behind his back, but she grabbed his arm and pulled it out. Her face softened. "Do you want me to give it to her for you?"

He didn't need help from a bloody teenager. "No!" he said quickly. "And what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be tucked away in your beddy-bye, all warm and safe where nothing can eat you?" he menaced.

Dawn giggled. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

He gave her a look of disgust. "Little tremble wouldn't hurt. Show me some respect".

"Sorry, it's just – I know you. You're a big softie. I think I'm badder than you".

He flicked his cigarette away. "Really, now. And what are you up to, little Miss Bad?"

"I'm breaking into the Magic Shop. To steal things," she added defiantly.

Narrowing his eyes, Spike considered. If he tried to stop her, she'd just find some other way. The chit was as stubborn as her sister. She'd be safer with him watching over her. "All number of beasties between here and there. Bet they'd really go for a Little Red Riding Hood like you".

She had the good sense to look afraid at that. "Wanna come steal stuff with me?" she gulped.

Spike looked back at the house, then his box of chocolates. He wasn't going to give them to the Slayer, he knew that. May as well go to the Magic Shop. "Yeah, all right".

* * *

He followed behind the Niblet, swiftly and silently, making sure she got home alright. Something told him it'd be best to leave her alone. He couldn't imagine the shock she was going through. He was shocked enough. She wasn't real? He couldn't believe it. She'd always been there, hanging about like the annoying little sister she was, on the fringe of things, suffering a case of hero-worship for the vamp in question. As far as memory served.

Watching her sneak back in the window, he slowed and pulled up beside the tree, wondering if she was going to be okay. He dithered, unsure of what to do, when his nostrils flared, the faint but sharp tang of blood filling the air. Ready to barge in, demand an invitation, he flew to the door, only to pause when he heard the blonde witch gasp, followed by Dawn's pained, "Is this blood?" Listening to the commotion inside, he decided she was safe, and after a moment's hesitation he turned away, shaking his head in sorrow.

Slayer was bound to be by when she realized he'd been involved. And one guess who she'd blame for the mess.

* * *

He was waiting on her step, bright and early the next morning, to try to catch her before she went out. She hadn't been by his place yet, which meant the Little Bit hadn't welched on him. Good girl, she was.

He was half asleep when she came out the front door, obviously still shaken. "Buffy," he said quietly, catching her attention.

"Whatever it is, I don't have time right now, Spike".

"Make time," he barked. He was already anticipating her ire, causing him to burst out without preamble, "Look. I was just along for the ride. Not like I knew she was the sodding mystical glowy Key thing. Nobody keeps me in the bloody loop, do they?"

Her eyes got wide, then narrowed dangerously. "What are you talking about?"

"Listen up. Kid sis wanted to grab a midnight stroll to the Magic Shop, and I figured if I tried to stop her, she'd only find another way, sooner or later. She's right stubborn. Like someone else I know. I just thought she'd be safer with Big Bad looking over her shoulder. Didn't know what was up, did I?" he finished accusingly.

"You – you led her to that information? She shouldn't have found out like that! How could you?" She shifted, looking like she wanted to strike him.

"Oh yeah, here it comes. Something goes wrong in your life, blame Spike". She did slug him then, and he retaliated, saying, "You didn't think you could hide the truth from her forever, did you? Maybe if _you_ had been honest with her in the first place, you wouldn't be trying to make yourself feel better with a round of Kick the Spike".

She stopped her attack at that and glared at him. "You have no idea how I feel".

"No, 'cause you don't want to let me in. Which, fair enough, you're still mad at me, have a right to be. No argument there. _But_. If you want me to be part of your life – and I'd say protecting kid sis qualifies – then you'd do best to keep me in the loop. So as I know why I'm protecting her. Don't you think?"

"Like I would have told you. How do I know you won't just go running to Glory with that information?"

Spike grew preternaturally still, the hurt blazing from his eyes. "Sometimes, Slayer, I'm not sure which one of us is the evil one. At least I know which one of us is the heartless one". And he rapidly strode away, fists clenched.

* * *

"But none of those memories are real," Xander said in bewilderment.

Brusquely, Buffy replied, "They were to her. And to me".

"I'm just saying, Dawn might _avoid_ the places she remembers because of that".

"Well, for now we have to assume…" She took a breath, regrouped, and went on determinedly, "Anya, stay put in case she shows up here. Mom's guarding the home phone. Giles, Xander, sweep the center of town. Willow, Tara, you take the west side. And I'm on the east. We _have_ to -". She broke off, about to lose it, then said more softly. "Just find her. Please".

Buffy left the shop, hurrying to Spike's apartment. Time to eat crow. For her sister, she would apologize, because she needed Spike's help. Again. And as evil and wrong as he was, she knew he wouldn't deny her, deny Dawn. Not when it really mattered. She knew thinking of Spike as evil and trustworthy in the same sentence was completely contradictory and nonsensical, but that summed Spike up. Mr. Contradictory Nonsensical vampire guy.

Thankfully the paradox of a vampire was home, but his stony face as he answered the door left her cold. "I don't know how to make up for what I said, so the best I can do is I'm sorry. I know you would never do that to us. To Dawn. You're… better than that". She took a deep breath. "You were right. It was my fault, I should have told her, and I was taking it out on you".

He raised an eyebrow. "The Slayer admits she was wrong. You feeling alright?"

She gave him a tight smile. "Actually? No. Dawn's run off and I need your help to find her. Otherwise you would have waited a lot longer for an apology".

"Well then. As long as we're honest, hmm, pet?" He lifted his jacket off the hook by the door and followed her out.


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Notes:**

I'm going to try to post more often, mostly because I'm ready to move on and I have a hard time going back and forth between projects. But (and I'm not fishing for complements, I promise) please keep reviewing regularly - I know the story too well and sometimes I forget to make things clear - your reviews really help me see what I need to work on. Peeps who haven't reviewed in a long time - have I lost you? Disappointed? Just lurking? Withholding judgement?

And all you wonderful readers with WIPs - get them done! I need new stories to read!

Joss owns all, I borrow liberally from canon, thanks be to him and the PTB for permission to do so. It was at this point in the story that I realized I had obliterated a lot of the canon story lines that I love... No chains, no Drusilla, no Harmony walking away backwards, no awkward realization that Spike loves Buffy... sigh...

* * *

Spike and Buffy stood in the empty cemetery. "Where can she be?" Buffy panicked.

"You'll find her. Just in the nick of time. That's what you hero types do".

She spun agitatedly. "I don't know…" The sound of a siren wailing in the distance made her stop short. "The hospital…" Buffy looked up at him. "I haven't told the others you're in town. And… I don't think this is the time. Y'know?"

"No worries, luv, I'll stay your dirty little secret".

He was lucky he didn't leer as he said it, didn't make any unseemly gestures, or she would have laid him out flat. "Don't push your luck," she threatened. "You're in no way forgiven".

Spike grabbed her arm as she whirled to leave. "I'll keep looking, alright? And will you… will you let me know when you find her? Please?"

It was… disturbing, knowing a vampire cared about her sister. In what appeared to be a brotherly fashion. But she agreed to his request. She'd want the same courtesy in his place.

* * *

The next day, at the Magic Shop, Buffy made the announcement. "So… There's no way to ease into this. Spike's back. In Sunnydale". Several pairs of eyes whipped towards her. "And I don't plan on killing him. Just yet".

"Buffy," Willow whispered. She'd gone white. The redhead was the only one who knew what had happened when she and Faith had switched bodies. The only one who knew why Spike had skipped town.

The Slayer looked to her friend. "I know Wills. But I can't deny that he cares for Dawn. He's offered to help protect her, and I have to say… I think we need his help. He's the only one who is strong enough to fight Glory, besides me. And you. It would be selfish of me to turn down his offer. It's business, nothing more".

"And do you trust him, Buffy?" Giles asked, obviously holding back a diatribe.

"Trust him? No. Never. But I do trust him with Dawn's life. Spike is way the lesser of two evils at the moment".

* * *

"At the sound of the tone, leave a message". Spike with an answering machine. Weird.

"So, hey, I let the gang know you're in town, and you don't-".

The phone picked up. "Buffy? Hello?"

"Hey, technology man. Welcome to last century".

"Don't want to miss any phone calls, yeah?"

"You're so strange. Anyhow, everybody knows you're here, no need to lurk about anymore. And they know you're working with me, to leave you alone".

He was silent, then asked, "Can you come over tonight? For dinner?"

She couldn't see his face, couldn't read the meaning in his voice. "Dinner?" she repeated dumbly.

Sounding nervous now, Spike said, "'Ve been learning to cook. Have a lot of time on my hands". He waited for her to laugh, but she didn't, so he went on. "Thought I could make you dinner, and we can talk… shop. Game plan for this Glory chippie. I'm, ah… not up for a full Scooby meeting".

How could she resist seeing what Spike would cook? Curiosity alone made her agree. She just hoped it would be edible.

As the appointed hour grew closer, she began to get jumpy. What to wear suddenly took on paramount importance. Being invited to Spike's apartment for dinner didn't exactly have the same vibe as barging into his crypt when she wanted to see him. Especially with it being Valentine's Day this weekend. She didn't want to give him the impression that something was starting up between them again, not even friendship.

Each outfit was too _something_ – too sexy, too frilly, too adult, too childish, too utilitarian, too… The amount of thought she was putting into it made her head spin. She finally settled on a pair of jeans and a bright red sweater, but only because she was out of time.

Spike, on the other hand, looked as though he hadn't put any thought into his appearance when he answered the door, bedecked in his usual black. Of course, he didn't exactly vary his wardrobe. Buffy did notice his hair was tousled though. The way she liked it. She firmly clamped down on that thought.

"Hullo," he said anxiously, stepping aside and motioning her in.

"Thank you," she returned, equally on edge. The aroma of something simmering washed over her as she made her way in. "Hey, that smells good!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"You doubt my cooking skills?" he said mock-fiercely, teasing, eyebrow raised.

"Well, yeah. Your tastebuds are kinda dead. You didn't add a whole lot of spicy, I hope?"

He smiled nervously at her. "Followed a recipe and everything. I've been trying things out on your mum. She's been keeping me away from the spices".

Buffy was flummoxed. He wasn't supposed to be endearing. He was supposed to be cruel and snarky, so she could keep hating him. So she would find it easy to repress what she felt for him. She reached into her own meanness, trying to keep her hands from reaching out to him, touching him.

"So how are you affording this place? Did you eat the owner?"

Wow. She'd gotten really good at making him look like that lately. Like she'd ripped out his heart with her bare hands. "Sorry, sorry," she muttered. "I'm… I don't know what the hell is going on here, with you, with us, and it's making me spiteful".

A timer beeped and Spike turned away, his face impassive. "Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I'll have this done soon". A moment later he was back in front of her, a glass of wine in his hands. "Do you -?"

"Yes, please," she breathed, grateful for the drink. Anything to take the edge off. She looked around as he went back to the kitchen. If her mom had been helping him decorate, they'd done a nice job. Buffy felt comfortable in the warmly lit living room, surrounded by deep, rich colors and soft leather. You'd never know a vampire lived here, and yet, it fit Spike perfectly.

She heard the clinking of dishes and got up to investigate. He was sliding hot plates onto a small table in the kitchen, the intimate place settings making her catch her breath.

"It looks great". He gestured at a chair and she sat as he lit the candles and flicked off the lights. The ambience was definitely set on romantic.

"Is… is this a date?" she asked hesitantly.

"A date? Puh-lease!" he scoffed, and then his voice turned hopeful. "Do you want it to be?"

She looked down at her plate and fiddled with the cloth napkin, not knowing how to answer. Of course she didn't want it to be a date. Spike had no place in her life, none at all, and the only reason she was here was because of Dawn. And Glory. Otherwise, she'd be sitting across from a big pile of dust… crying her eyes out.

Because – of course she wanted it to be a date. She'd missed the stupid vampire, missed watching him change, make himself into someone better, despite the setbacks he'd had. Missed him more than she had ever admitted, even to herself, and the full truth of it struck her, sitting across from him like this, a homecooked dinner in between them as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a vampire to cook.

Spike must have realized he wasn't getting an answer any time soon. "Have a taste, pet, while it's warm, tell me what you think". She paid attention to her plate for the first time, realizing he'd made a pasta dish of some kind.

After only one bite, she burst out, "Oh my God, that's like Heaven in my mouth! You should cook more often!"

"Yeah?" he asked, shy and pleased.

"Definitely. If you cooked for me like this every day, you'd have me eating out of your hand in -". Buffy abruptly clammed up, realizing what she was saying. "It's delicious," she amended. "And I can't tell you the last time I ate a real meal. Thank you".

"Glad you like it".

For long minutes, they were silent other than Buffy's little sounds of delight. Spike watched her, a small smile playing about his lips. When she began to slow down, he said, "Buffy. Pet. I know I really bollixed things up, before. And I know you don't trust me now. But I wanted you to know I'm back on the wagon".

"For how long?" she asked him, serious. "I mean, you fell off pretty hard, from the sounds of it".

Absently twirling his uneaten pasta on his fork he said lowly, "It was seeing you with that Riley tosser. On _our_ beach. It hit hard. Here". He touched his unbeating heart. "The pain… was too much. But it's… I'm better now".

"So we're safe, then. Because I'll never cause you pain again," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"Won't let it happen again. Lesson learned, right? Isn't that what you told me once?"

"That was a – a nothing of a mistake, compared to this! How many people died, Spike, because you lost control? Because I didn't do my duty?" She was shaking in anger.

Quietly, he replied, "Too many. I know. But… think of it this way. How many people _haven't_ died because I fell in love with you? Much bigger number, yeah?"

She ignored that, instead said, "And what happens when I die? Because I will. Odds are, any day now. What then? How many people will you kill then?"

"Only myself". Buffy's hand flew to her mouth, and she stared at him as he continued. "Life, without you? Pointless, luv. Long and grey and dreary. The day you're buried, I'll sit on your grave and watch the sun rise. Without the Gem of Amarra. Only reason I didn't already do it, before, was because I wanted to still be here. In case you would ever find it in your heart to change your mind. Forgive me". He looked at her hopefully.

"I don't know if I can," she said in a tiny, scared voice. "I failed. In my sacred duty. I let you live, and people died. Not just that, but I… I felt like _I_ died, when I saw what you'd done with Faith – to _my_ body. Do you know how horrifyingit was, finding myself back in my body, _unable to walk_? More or less _raped?_" she whispered in horror. "Especially after you kidnapped me and threatened to do just that to me?" He looked away, dismayed, and she asked, "How can I ever forgive you?"

Spike got up and turned his back on her, and Buffy suspected he was hiding tears. He came back with the bottle of wine and refilled her glass, then took his to the fridge and came back with it refilled as well. She realized with a start he was drinking blood, not wine, and he noticed her reaction. "I've been bagging it. Doesn't make up for anything, but…" He narrowed his eyes at her. "And if you say _anything_ about the Great Poof, I will bite you".

She just shook her head.

He stared down at the table, shoulders taut, hands moving restlestly. "There's no way for me to make up for – with the other Slayer – or killing again. Or any of it. I know that, know 'sorry' doesn't cut it. There's a monster inside of me". Shifting briefly into game face, he added, "Literally". Human once more, he continued. "But everything I promised you, I meant. I haven't – I've been good, Buffy, and I swear to you I'll keep it up. I know you don't think I'm worth it, but please, just let me be a – a part of your life".

"I am, aren't I? With Dawn?"

He let out a shaky breath. "I meant – with us, luv. We were good together. I _love_ you. I want to be -".

Buffy cut him off abruptly. There was no being anything with him. She would not be in love with something that was dead, and evil, and a vampire. Not anymore. "No. We are – business associates. That's the limit of what I can handle, Spike. You're useful to me, so I'll let you live. Don't ask for anything more".

Quickly standing up and moving to the door before he could stop her, she said, "Look, thanks for dinner. It was amazing. And I'm glad you're… back on the wagon, as you say. But you think your heart hurts? It's nothing, compared to how I feel, what I've gone through. I'm not going to open myself up to that kind of pain again".

He'd followed her, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and he opened his mouth to say something snarky, based on his expression. Buffy got in his face. "_Don't_," she hissed. "Don't say anything that will make this worse. Don't remind me why it hurts so much to love you". And she ripped the door open and fled.

* * *

Eyeing the party goers, Spike reconsidered his decision to give up eating people. These Hawaiian-shirted wankers deserved it. Prats, the whole lot. And this was where Buffy wanted to spend her bleeding time?

He'd found out she was going to be here from Joyce, so he'd come along, hoping to see her. It had been three days since she'd stormed off from his flat, and he figured she ought to have calmed down a little. He'd intended to maintain his distance, not push her so hard to forgive him, but of course he'd buggered the plan up. Couldn't help needing her, wanting her, could he?

Wasn't all bad, though. Slayer had admitted she loved him, even if she hadn't meant to. He'd floated along on the knowledge, which – funny sensation for a vampire, that. Floating. And he wasn't even brought down by the reminder that whatever she felt for him, it hurt her. Made her cry. He couldn't feel anything but good.

Because, she _loved_ him. He had a chance.

Spike spied Buffy standing alone, looking as though she were waiting on someone. He sidled up to her, waiting for her to sense him. She did, and the look she gave him wasn't friendly.

"Oh dear. If looks could stake. Miss me?"

"No. You'd better not be stalking me".

"Not stalking. Enjoying…" he looked around, trying to think of an apt description of the party, "…the stimulating and refined atmosphere. And," he raised a beer, "the copious free beverages. Even if they taste like rat piss," he added with a grimace.

"Go away. You're not welcome here".

"S'a free party. You want me to leave, you can put your hands on my hot, tight little body and make me," he leered and winked.

There was a momentary tremble, and then she hardened. He listened to the smarter part of his brain for once and made himself move away with a shrug. Buffy knew where he was if she wanted him.

Spike stood amidst the throng of revelers, watching her unobtrusively. His eyes narrowed as some ponce came up to her and, after a moment's conversation, handed her a piece of paper. Which, based on the way he was acting, had to be his phone number.

Buffy didn't seem to be brushing him off, though. In fact, Spike could have sworn she was pleased about this. When she smiled at the bloke and tucked the piece of paper carefully into her pocket, his jealously flared. What the bloody hell was she playing at?

_Right in front of me, no less. Let's see how she likes it_. He chose a pretty girl, went up to her. "And who are you, darling?" He glanced at Buffy from the corner of his eye and saw she was watching him. Good.

"I'm April. I'm looking for my fella".

"Maybe you just found him," he said suggestively.

"Really? Where?" The girl wasn't quite catching on. He certainly couldn't cause reciprocal jealousy if the daft bint paid him no mind.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. "Right here, sweetheart. I can take you home, make you forget about any other fellas. Make you scream in pleasure all night 'til you're hoarse and can barely walk".

Instead of the hoped for response, April pulled back with a startled, "Oh!" and easily lifted Spike into the air. He struggled ineffectually, panicked. What the hell was this girl? And how bloody undignified did he look right now?

"Hey! Hey! _Hey_!" he bellowed. This was not at all going well.

"That would be _wrong_!" April said. "You are not my boyfriend!" And she pitched him through the plate glass window.

Spike sprang up, broken glass raining down off of him. Psycho bitch. "Bloody hell! You threw me through a window! What's that about?"

"You cannot make those suggestions to me. I have a boyfriend. Warren is my boyfriend".

Rage mounted, fueled by all the sodding wankers staring at him like a sodding zoo exhibit. How dare she treat him this way? He ought to rip her bloody throat out. He ought to make her neck his chalice and pick his teeth with her bones. Tossing him through a bloody window. Spike tensed to spring at her, but then caught sight of Buffy's shocked face.

_Suck it up, mate_._ You gonna break your latest promise right under the Slayer's nose? _

Not the best plan.

"You know what? My bleedin' sympathies to Warren".

Gathering his tattered shreds of dignity, he swaggered away.

He was at Willy's, half-way to pissed, when she found him. "What d'you want Slayer?" he asked petulantly when he realized she was trying to hide a smile.

"Just making sure the little girl didn't hurt you too badly," she said with a giggle. He glared at her. "Oh come on, it was funny".

"'M not here for your bloody entertainment".

"In your defense, she _was_ a robot".

He perked up at that. "Robot? Is that what she was? Knew I couldn't smell anything demonic about her".

"Nope. Just your run-of-the-mill robot girlfriend". Buffy was still smiling broadly. Nice to see her like that, even if it was at his expense.

Taking a swallow of his drink, his mind whirled with possibilities, but all he said was, "Huh". Spike suddenly recalled how he'd gotten into that mess in the first place. "So you gonna call that tosser? Go out with him?"

She frowned, trying to suss out what he meant, then figured it out. "Who, Ben? No, I was just being… polite. He's an intern at the hospital. He was real helpful when Mom was sick. I mean, he's cute and all, and I so should call him…" Spike growled low in his throat, and she rolled her eyes. "But for some reason, dating never seems to work out for me".

"Because you're _mine_!" Spike snarled before he could stop himself.

Buffy tensed. "No. Don't start that again".

And he was alone once more.


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Notes:**

Love hearing your thoughts - even criticism (you know, the positive kind).

* * *

"Thank you so much for your help, Spike," Joyce said, stepping out of his car.

He took her arm and led her up the steps. "No problem. Glad to be of service".

"I think you have some new fans now. Raina and Heather were quite impressed with your show of strength. Moving those marble pieces all on your own. Don't be surprised if you get some phone calls in the near future," she said with a wink.

"Speaking of suitors…" he indicated the flower delivery truck pulling up, and Joyce blushed.

They watched as the deliveryman pulled out a huge bouquet, and Joyce signed for it. "It's lovely, isn't it? Brian is such a gentleman. I'll be right back".

Spike waited while she set the bouquet inside, then stepped back out onto the porch. She opened her mouth to speak, but Spike suddenly shushed her. "Quiet!" She stood nervously as he cocked his head, staring intently at her, then closed his eyes and put his hand to the side of her head.

"What…?"

"Get in the car. Now".

She didn't argue. "Spike?" she prompted as he tore out of the driveway and down the street.

Face grimly set in determination, he said, "Something doesn't sound right. With the blood. In there". He touched his temple. "'M taking you to the hospital".

Joyce was frightened. "You can hear that?"

"Just barely. A whisper. If I didn't know you so well, I wouldn't have noticed it. It's where the surgery was, right?"

"Y-yes. The doctor told me there was a chance of complications, maybe an aneurism. But there're no symptoms…"

"Not taking any chances, are we?"

He burst into the emergency room, Buffy's mother in his arms. "Need a doctor NOW!" he barked. "Lady's going to have an aneurism!"

The E.R. staff rushed over with a gurney, a young doctor asking, "How do you know, sir? Are there any symptoms?"

Just then, Joyce said, "Oh! I don't feel…" and trailed off, face pale, hands shaking.

Spike deposited her onto the gurney and snarled, "Now, Doc!" game face emerging in his distress.

The doctor let out a startled cry as the vampire got himself under control, then began shouting orders, two nurses rushing the gurney down the hall and into a room. Spike collapsed into a chair, shaking. If Joyce wasn't alright…

After a bit, he slipped off to find some blood. He couldn't quite think straight, needed to blunt the hunger that had risen up at the smell of all the wounded. Satisfied by a pilfered bag of O positive, he returned to the waiting room and made a call.

Giles answered. "Hello?"

"Watcher. Listen up," Spike said brusquely. "'Ve got Buffy's mum at the hospital. She was feeling poorly. Let the Slayer know, will you?" And he hung up.

An intern approached him. "Did you bring in Mrs. Summers, sir?"

"How is she?"

"Are you family, sir? We can only give out information to -".

"'M her son-in-law". Close enough.

The intern looked grave. "We have her stabilized for the moment, and we're hopeful. You brought her in with seconds to spare, literally. Another minute and she would have been dead". Spike stared at him. He felt like his heart should be pounding. "I'll let you know if there are any changes".

"My wife will want to see her when she gets here". Buffy would kill him for calling her his wife, but she'd have to understand. Only way to get the info without a little intimidation. Lesser of two evils, he figured.

"I'm not sure if that will be allowed. We'll see".

Spike slumped back into a seat, drumming his fingers on his knee. An hour passed before Buffy arrived, running to him, trembling with fear.

"Spike?" she said shakily. "What happened?"

He wrapped his arms around her, held her close, and she let him. "She – I was helping her with something, and I just knew. Things weren't right. So I brought her here. Doc said we arrived with seconds to spare. An aneurism. They've got her stable".

Buffy sagged and he supported her, taking all her weight. She was so small, so young. It was easy to forget, what with how deadly she was. "I can't – I can't ever thank you enough". She wiped her eyes and looked up at him. "Do you think she's okay?"

He kissed the top of her head. "We'll go ask, alright?" He kept his arm around her, guiding her to the desk. "They think you're my wife, pet," he whispered. "Only way to get them to talk to me," he said to her annoyed expression. "'Less you wanted me to flash a little fang, scare them into it".

She shook her head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Thank you". She was still leaning into him.

The rest of the gang began to file in through the doorway, stopping and staring at the sight of him holding Buffy so closely. Spike scowled at them, and got the admitting nurse's attention. "We need some information on Mrs. Summers". He let Buffy take over the conversation, but stayed with her, supporting her despite the disapproving looks he could feel aimed at his back by her friends.

Clutching his hand, the Slayer led him over to the assembled group. "They're going to let me in to see her in awhile. She's unconscious, but alive". She drew a shaky breath. "I need somebody to go get Dawn. At school. She'll want to be here".

"I'll go," Spike offered, wanting to get away from the others, but she clutched at him tighter and shook her head violently.

"No, I need you here".

"Ahn and I will go," Xander said. "Don't worry".

Giles had just entered from parking the car, and he added his mistrustful look to the others', narrowing his eyes as he noticed Buffy clinging to Spike's arm. Spike fumed silently, not wanting to cause a scene for Buffy's sake. He'd earned his right to be here hadn't he? It wasn't like he was taking advantage of the situation. The Slayer had all but begged him to stay.

"Come here, pet. Try to relax," he said, pulling her onto a chair next to him and having her lean on him. "Mum's going to need you to be strong for Little Bit. Deep breaths. 'Ve got you". He blocked out the others, ignored the emotions rolling off of them. Buffy was all that mattered.

Cocooning her inside his coat, he stroked her hair. "S'going to be just fine, luv, you'll see".

"It's not fair," she said, breath evening out. "She was better. It was all supposed to be over".

"Life's never that simple, sweetheart. It's just a bump in the road. We'll get through this".

Buffy shifted so he could hold her more easily. "We?" she said into his chest.

"Whatever you need. You know that".

"Yeah. I do. Isn't that a kick?" She leaned further into him and said, "I'm glad you're here, Spike".

They stayed like that until the intern came back. "Is this your wife? Mrs. Summers' daughter?" Spike saw Willow's glare, saw her begin to fume, but he didn't react, only nodded at the intern, who said, "You can come on back now. Just the two of you," he added as the others moved forward.

"S'okay, I can stay here," Spike said to Buffy, but she shook her head.

"No. You brought her in. Saved her life. She'd want you there". She gave a tired, apologetic smile to the others. "Thanks guys. I'll be back in a moment".

* * *

Later that day, Buffy sat curled on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, a sleeping vampire in her lap. Willow and Tara had taken Dawn out for something to eat, and Buffy had insisted that the others go back to work. "I don't know how long we'll be here, so… go take a break, come back tonight. If I'm still here tonight, that's when I'll really need you". They'd left only because she'd insisted. She'd needed them to go. Now that there was nobody around to give Spike looks of death, the tension was bearable.

She'd refused to let him leave, grasping his arm tightly any time he'd suggested it. "I need you," she'd eventually admitted, and that had been that. He'd stayed with her, holding her hand, rubbing her back, until she could tell he was exhausted. Patting her lap, she'd said, "Take a nap. My turn to hold you". He'd lain down across several of the chairs with a gratified smile, head in her lap while she stroked his hair, idly running her hand through his curls until he was in a deep, motionless sleep.

Buffy lightly traced the planes of his face with her fingers, contemplating the sleeping vampire. This was the Spike she loved, the one who was her rock, the one who was – dare she say it? A good man. Times like this, it was impossible to believe he was a soulless demon, impossible to remember the evil things he'd done. She sighed. If only this was who he really was.

All day, the hospital staff had been referring to him as her husband, and she'd found herself nostalgic. There had been a period – a very brief period, before Faith had screwed everything up – when things had been good between her and Spike. He'd been everything he'd promised her he would be, and she'd been happy in his company. Rubbing absently at her finger where the ring he'd given her had been, Buffy wondered what he'd done with it. What he'd say if she asked for it back.

Shaking her head sadly, she pushed that line of thought away. Hadn't she learned her lesson yet? Trusting Spike, loving Spike, led to badness. She was only feeling this way because she was grateful to him. For saving her mother. He certainly deserved appreciation for that, but not another chance at her heart. Sitting there, musing, Buffy questioned whether the things she felt for Spike could still be attributed to Stockholm syndrome. That had been so long ago; surely it wasn't still the root of her feelings? She stroked the vampire's head again as he shifted, soothing him back to sleep.

No, she decided, her feelings for him were real. There were things about Spike that were eminently lovable, parts of him that were truly striving to be a good man and were deserving of her respect. She decided it was okay for her to feel something for him, not completely crazy after all. He wasn't just a vampire. No other vampire would have saved her mother or stayed with her all day. She bent down to kiss his cheek and he arched his head into her lips, mumbling happily in his sleep. Definitely not just another vampire.

The doors marked 'no admittance' whooshed open and Buffy looked up to see Ben striding through, faltering when he saw her. She eased herself out from under Spike's head and stood up as the intern walked slowly to her.

"I just started my shift and saw your mom was back," he said, shooting a perplexed glance at Spike's inert form. "But I looked over her charts and I have to say, I think she's going to be fine".

"She hasn't woken up yet," she protested worriedly. "I thought the longer she stayed unconscious, the worse it was".

"Your mother has definitely been showing signs of stirring," Ben replied. "She's not behaving like a coma patient, so I think she'll be out of the woods soon".

Buffy could feel a smile splitting her face, and she put a hand on Ben's arm. "Thanks! That's great news!"

Easing away from her touch, he motioned to Spike. "I don't mean to be rude, but isn't that the guy that was bothering you at the party?" he whispered.

She looked around at Spike's sleeping body, only to see him fluidly stand up, no trace of sleep in his movements. "Hello, then," the vampire said, hand extended, his posture challenging. "'M William. Buffy's _husband_". She rolled her eyes. Great, another display of testosterone.

"Ben," the intern replied, shaking his hand, and she saw him wince as Spike gripped harder than necessary. Buffy elbowed Spike in the ribs, warning him to behave. "Husband?" Ben turned to her and asked, thrown.

Spike bounced gleefully beside her and she sighed. "We're strange – estranged!" she corrected quickly. "He's the one who brought my mom in. They're – close. So he's waiting with me". She didn't know why she felt the need to defend herself to Ben. She'd certainly never indicated she would call him. And she could sense Spike getting annoyed with her too.

Without looking at his face, she took Spike's hand. "He's been a big comfort," she offered in an indirect apology. He squeezed gently to let her know he understood.

Ben looked between them. "Well, that's good," he said, clearly uncomfortable. "I bet you anything Joyce will wake up sometime today, but it's not likely in the next hour or two. If you wanted to go out, get a breath of fresh air or something, now would be a good time. Nice to meet you… William". He turned and walked away.

Once he was gone, Spike said, "I tell you what, luv, you've got bleedin' tragic taste in men. I've got a cousin what married a regurgitating Frovolox demon, she's got better instincts than you".

Raising their clasped hands into his line of vision, she scoffed, "I couldn't agree more".

Spike scratched his head uncomfortably with his free hand. "Point taken. But I was talking about your boy, Ben. Something's off with him".

"No way!" she protested disbelievingly. "You're just jealous. He's nice".

"Jealous of that wanker? Hardly likely". He shook his head. "Trust me, pet, he's not quite human".

Buffy stared at the door the intern had gone through. "Wonderful. Another thing to worry about".

"Worry 'bout him later. I'll check into him once we're done here, alright sweetheart?"

"Why can't you always be like this?" Buffy burst out. He cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly. "Someone I can depend on. Trust. Lo- like".

Spike grew serious. "Everyone makes mistakes. I know I've made mine, but this _is_ who I am, pet. What I want to be for you".

"Except your mistakes are kinda monumental. Fatal, even".

"'M doing my level best. I know it's not enough. Know I'm a monster. But when you treat me like a man, that's…"

He was unable to continue, his face filled with emotion. Spike visibly reasserted control of himself, changing the subject quickly. "What d'you say you take Ben's advice and go get a breath of fresh air. I'll stay here, wait for news". She was going to object but he said, "Go on, Buffy. Go recharge for a bit. Dawn'll be back soon".

She complied, walking around the hospital grounds in the late afternoon sun, working the tension out. When she saw her sister and the witches in the distance, she hurried over to them.

"I've got take-out for you," Dawn informed her.

"That's great! Go on up, Spike's there. I'm almost ready to go in".

Willow hung back as the other two left. "Buff," she said lowly. "How can you let him stay? Have you forgotten what he did to you? Because I haven't".

Buffy closed her eyes, all the tension returning. "I haven't. I can't afford to forget. He's evil, I know it. But he's also got all this good mixed up in him too, and right now? I want that good part of him around. Because that part of him _saved_ my mother," she said fiercely. "She'd be _dead_ right now if it wasn't for Spike. And I can't forget that either".

Willow gazed at her with compassion. "As long as you know what you're doing. I don't want to see you hurt like that ever again".

"Trust me, me either. I'm not forgiving him or anything. But… can you just accept him for now? Because knowing that he's here with me, and my mom is too because of his actions, is giving me the strength to get through this day".

"I can see that. And I can accept it. He's… he _is_ so goodsometimes, it's hard to reconcile with the evilness. I thought Oz's wolfiness was a challenge. That was nothing compared to the complexity that is Spike".

Buffy took her hand. "Thanks. I know I'm all indecisive-girl when it comes to the stupid vampire. I'm going to stake him, I'm not going to stake him… You don't know how often I wish he would just stay evil, so I could hate him and dust him for once and for all".

Willow pulled her into an embrace. "Poor Buffy. Ambiguity is no fun".

* * *

A nurse walked into the reception room. "Your mother is awake and she's asking for you girls," she said with a broad smile. "Come on back".

Buffy let go of Spike's hand and stood up. "Don't go anywhere, okay?" she told him quietly.

"Not going to leave until you say, pet".

As soon as the Summers girls were gone, Giles rounded on him. "I don't know what you're playing at Spike, but if you hurt Buffy in any way…" he threatened.

"Relax, Ripper. Girl wants me here, I'm not going anywhere".

To his surprise, Willow came between them, hand on Spike's shoulder. "Spike saved Mrs. Summers' life. And Buffy wants him here. I don't believe he has any angle, Giles. He's genuinely concerned". Spike was touched, until the witch turned to him. "Plus, I think you know how strong I'm getting. Magically speaking. I'll hex you into next year if you hurt my friend in any way, and you don't want that, do you?" she said flatly.

"Not going to hurt Buffy, _witch_, and you know it's got nothing to do with being afraid of you," he retorted angrily.

Willow bent down and hissed so only he could hear. "I saw what you did to Buffy's body. With Faith. Except – you thought it was Buffy you were doing it to, didn't you? I'm the one who had to get her out of there, support her when she couldn't even walk, after you ran away and left her like that. I'd be very afraid of me if I were you".

Spike's mouth went dry, the venom in her voice scaring him. The redhead was hiding some serious darkness behind her sweet and innocent exterior. He had no doubt she'd come after him if she felt he deserved it.

"Fair enough," he said quietly. "Good to know I've got you on my case too. Help keep me on the straight and narrow".

Willow straightened up. "Just what I thought," she said cheerfully. "See? No problems".

Spike was relieved when Buffy re-appeared, saying Joyce was asking for him.

He'd much rather be with the Summers women than with that lot.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Notes: **Look at me in a posting frenzy! Make sure you don't miss out on any chapters, they're going up rapidly.

* * *

"Giles, can I have your keys to the Magic Box? I feel the need to go punch things, but I don't really want to patrol tonight".

"Certainly, Buffy. Do you wish me to train with you?"

She kept her eyes on Giles, refusing to betray her intentions by letting them flick to Spike. "No, I need some alone time. Mom made me promise to go home 'til morning, but I can't do nothing until then".

She turned to Dawn. "Do you mind if Willow and Tara take you to the dorms tonight? And I'll pick you up in the morning and bring you back here?"

Dawn nodded. "Sure you want to be alone?"

"Yeah. I've got a lot of pent-up violence, need to blow off some steam. A few hours with the punching bag and I'll be all better". Buffy turned to Spike. "Drive me? Since it's on your way home?"

When Spike pulled up outside the Magic Box, she said quickly, before she could change her mind, "Actually, I was hoping you'd come in and spar with me. But only if you don't say anything that makes it sound dirty," she added, catching the gleam in his eye. "I'm serious. Violence only".

"You know that's like foreplay to a vampire, luv," he smirked anyways.

"Gah. Now I really want to hit you. Come on, fang face".

Buffy changed into a spare set of workout clothes while Spike kicked off his boots and duster. Once she was back on the mat, they circled each other warily. "I've been noticing there's been a marked lack of demon-y types lately. You know anything about that?" she asked the vampire.

He grinned. "Got a lot of spare time on my hands, don't I? And I've been feeling mighty -" he jabbed and she ducked, "invulnerable these days".

It was her turn to lash out now, a flurry of kicks and punches that sent him backwards under their ferocity. "Lucky for me, it makes you the perfect punching bag".

"Working out some personal issues, are we?" He feinted and kicked her legs out, sending her to the floor.

His casual barb made her realize that, yes, yes she was. Buffy climbed slowly to her feet and stood quietly, waiting until Spike stilled. "Like you don't deserve a good ass-kicking". Looking right into his eyes, she continued gravely, "I can't just forget what you did to me, Spike". She didn't want to bring this up again, not after his support at the hospital, but it had to be said. "I know from your point of view you weren't raping me. That wasn't your intention. But from mine? _Really, really_ bad. And I know you're back to 'doing your best' and I'm proud of you for that, I truly am, but… I don't think things will ever be the same between us. Today was a start, but it's going to take an awful lot for me to be able to get past that night".

Spike closed the distance between them, suddenly furious. "Didn't help Joyce to win points with you!" he snapped.

Buffy didn't quail under his anger. "I know," she said soothingly. Once she might have added,_ That's why I can't help loving you_. _Because no vampire should feel this way._ She didn't, of course. Things couldn't be right between her and Spike, not yet, maybe not ever, but he might take an admission of love to mean that they were.

Instead she said, "And that's exactly why it does mean so much. Because what you did? I don't even have words. But if I did, they'd all be good".

"Oh". He gave her a crooked smile and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "About the other - Buffy, I'm sorry. Doesn't change what happened, but I am sorry".

She examined his face. "Are you really? Do you feel remorse for what you did? Or are you sorry that I'm mad at you?"

"'M sorry that you're hurting, and that I'm the reason for it. Never want to hurt you".

"Okay". She let out a sigh. "I wasn't ready yet to hear what you had to say the other night, over dinner, but I am now. If we're going to work together, I have to – not forgive. Or forget. But at least hear your side. And I'm ready now. So what about the killing? Be honest, okay? Like you were in New York. Are you sorry about killing again?"

He looked steadily at her. "Not the way you want me to be. Not going to lose sleep over it. But if I had the chance at a do-over, I'd hope it would turn out different. And it won't happen again".

Buffy thought about his responses. Coming from a demon who only looked like a human, even if he had the startling habit of trying to act like a one, it was the best she could hope for. And if she were honest with herself, she had to admit that she was impressed. He had no real reason to give up evil, and yet here he was, still trying. It wasn't enough to let her trust him, but it counted for something.

"Thanks, Spike. For not lying to me. I appreciate it". He nodded.

Stepping back, she said, "Okay. I'm good. Moving on, back to the ass-kicking. But first," she darted forward once more and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Thanks. Again. For Mom. You really came through, Spike, and I'll never, _ever_ forget that either".

While he stood there, stunned, she smiled at him, and then returned to her attack with a succession of punches and kicks that had him dancing backwards. Recovering himself, Spike got in another leg sweep that sent her to the ground.

Buffy rolled over, sprang up, and vaulted the pommel horse, balancing on top of it. He rushed it and she flipped, landing on the opposite side of him. "You're lucky I seem to be soft in the head over you, or you'd have been dead ages ago," she said lightly. Banter rather than accusation.

Spike twirled and clocked her in the face, just hard enough that she'd feel it without causing damage. "Pretty sure that's my line to you. You're lucky I'm the ponce that I am, don't drain you dry". He'd backed her up against the wall and she suddenly ducked and dove through his legs, coming up behind him with a pair of punches to his non-functional kidneys.

"No, I'm confident that you're the lucky one here". She dropped him with a kick and straddled him.

Spike didn't move, a happy grin plastered on his face. "I couldn't agree more, pet".

"Ugh!" She leapt off of him, fighting back the thrill of desire that ran through her. She did _not_ want her body to go there. "Up! I'm not satisfied yet". She held up a hand to forestall his comment. "I know, I walked right into that one. Just give me… You know what, I'm not saying another word. There's nothing I can say right now without you twisting it into something obscene".

"'M a man of many, many talents," he rejoined, rising gracefully to his feet, ready for her next attack. True to her word, Buffy didn't speak, only whaled on him with her fists. "Come on, luv, it's no fun when you're all silent-like".

"So how do we decide who wins? Since we're not fighting to the death".

Licking his lips sensuously, Spike's nostrils flared and blue eyes darkened. Her legs trembled despite herself. "I have some… ideas… I could share with you".

"Just… stop, okay? Or I'll send you away and spend quality time with my punching bag instead".

He circled her. "Don't think it'll give you quite the same level of satisfaction," he leered, thumbs tucked in his belt loops and hands splayed suggestively.

She decided to misinterpret his obvious meaning. "Not nearly. I like sparring with you. We're well matched – nobody else can keep up with me".

Spike lunged, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her, holding her back flush to his chest. "In more ways than one". A moment later, blunt teeth nipped her neck. "You're dead. My point".

Buffy shivered as his teeth gently scraped along her sensitive flesh, and she pulled away. "Yeah, but I already staked you earlier".

"Did not!"

"Did too!" She began to circle him again. "Besides, I wasn't even trying to escape".

"Right then. Rematch. Winner takes all," he grinned wolfishly.

They went at it again, hitting and kicking with equal ferocity, until Spike tripped and pulled Buffy down with him in a tangle of limbs, hers sweaty, his cool. They lay together panting. "Did I win?" she gasped, chest heaving.

He turned his head so he could look directly at her. "Dunno. Do you feel satisfied?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Buffy looked back at him. Her need for violence was satisfied, no doubt, but after a good fight like that, lying intertwined with him was making her dissatisfied in other ways. Spike's lips were scant inches from hers. All she had to do was lean forward, and she would feel them on hers. He moved his head incrementally closer, and she did the same, their eyes never leaving each others'. His breath washed over her face, cool and pleasant.

She made herself roll away, and Spike let out a frustrated grunt. Without looking at him, she said, "I'm not letting you break my heart again. I won't trust you with it. I _can't_ trust you, William, I just can't. Don't ask me to try".

When she turned around he was gone, the door to the training room swinging shut.

* * *

_ "What are you doing here, you leprotic hobbit?"_

_"You were observed talking to the Slayer. Her Glorificus is wondering if you know her?"_

_"Her mom is a patient. That's all. Go away"._

_"Glory would like to encourage your friendship with the Slayer. It might lead to information about the Key"._

_"Let the Most Unstable One understand this. I'm not helping her find the Key. I would never do that to an innocent gir-uh-guy"._

_"Gir Guy?"_

_"Girl Guide. Like a Girl Scout. But foreign. Far, far away from Sunnydale"._

_"I'm sorry to have bothered you. I'll just be going now"._

_"You're going to run and tell her, aren't you? I can't let that happen. I won't be responsible"._

* * *

_"Girl Guide? That is ridiculous. Tell me _exactly_ what Gentle Ben said"._

_"_'I would never do that to an innocent gir-uh-guy'_"._

_"I see... I do believe he meant an innocent girl. Don't you Jinxie?"_

* * *

"I need to step up my game, Giles. I still have no idea how to stop Glory. And… I feel like it's making me hard inside. I can't say how I feel to anybody. Can barely even say the word… _love_," she whispered, as though it were dirty. "I mean, I almost lost my mom, again, last week, and I still have a hard time telling her I love her".

"How serious are you about this?"

"Ten. Serious to the amount of ten".

"There is something. In the Watcher's Diaries. A quest".

* * *

Spike stood, head cocked, examining her. It. "And she's got all the extra programming, right?"

"All the stuff you wanted. The scenario responses, the, you know… special skills… all of it. Now, you said I could leave town when she's done".

"Hold on. I'm not sure I'm a satisfied customer. She looks a little shiny to me. You know, a touch of plasticine… You sure she'll hold up? She as strong as your sexbot?"

"Stronger". The nerd tried to sneak past him, and Spike reached out with sudden speed to grab him by the collar.

"You'll leave when I say".

The robot's eyes popped open. "What do you want, Spike?" She punched him in the nose.

"She'll do".

* * *

"Come on, then, Slayer, it's time to patrol. Fight for justice… and puppies… and Christmas".

"I can patrol on my own".

Bloody hell, maybe he should have had that Warren program her a little less realistically. Couldn't have hurt to have her treat him right. "Yeah, but, it's more fun with the two of us".

He'd considered getting a Buffy sexbot, realizing what April had been made for, but the idea hadn't appealed. A 'bot could never fill the hole that the real girl had left in him. Instead, he'd ordered up a Slayer. That April had tossed Spike around like he was a mere human. With Glory running around, he'd figured they could use another fighter on the team. Someone as strong as he and Buffy were. And if the 'bot got damaged, well, no big loss.

He wanted to test her out, though, make sure she passed inspection before he tipped his hand to the real Slayer. Just in case things didn't go according to plan – which was the sodding story of his unlife since he'd first set foot in Sunnyhell.

Patrol went well, the Slayerbot successfully staking several vampires. She sounded a little off, her conversation was a little stilted, but he figured she'd pass in a pinch. She'd been programmed to think of his home as hers, so she followed him home without question, and Spike told her to go sleep on the couch, unsure of exactly what to do with her.

She insisted on sleeping in the bed though, which must have been something Warren had programmed in without his knowledge, and Spike caved. Wasn't really worth an argument with a robot, and he had to admit, he did enjoy pretending it was the real Buffy laying next to him, sleeping with him.

Which is how the Slayer found them when she barged into his flat the next day.

"Spike, I need to – what the hell?" she spluttered.

The 'bot sat up. "Say, look at you. You look like me. Hello other Buffy. You're very pretty".

"You made a robot? A _sexbot_?" Buffy screeched, advancing on him.

The 'bot echoed her perfectly, and Spike was faced with two furious Slayers.

"Buffy, no look – she's clothed, see?" he protested quickly. "I had her made to fight Glory!"

"And she fights Glory from your bed?" Buffy demanded indignantly, hovering over him.

"It was bleeding Warren, the little worm. He must have thought it'd be a right laugh to have her insist on sleeping in my bed. But that's it, alright?" He turned to the Buffybot. "Tell her. Tell her all we've done is patrol".

The Buffybot complied. "Yes. Spike insisted on patrolling with me, even though I did not want him to. And then we came home and he tried to make me sleep on the couch, but I did not wish to sleep on the couch. He did not wish to give up his bloody bed to me. So we shared it".

Buffy looked between Spike and the 'bot, her face unsure.

"Come on, luv. Like she could ever replace you. I'd know the difference in a heartbeat".

Lips twitching, Buffy said, "That would be a metaphorical heartbeat, I'm guessing".

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. "She's bloody strong," he explained. "Stronger than me. It can't hurt to have another warrior for the cause, yeah?"

The flesh and blood Buffy came and sat on the bed on the other side of him, head cocked to examine the 'bot, and Spike found himself sandwiched between two Buffys. Naughty, naughty images flashed into his head, and he swallowed, making sure the blankets covered him.

"Um, maybe you ladies would like to go into the other room. Get to know each other better while I get dressed," he suggested hoarsely.

"He is attempting to hide his erection," the Buffybot whispered conspiratorially. "It is massive, but uninteresting to me". The real Buffy glanced at him, taking in his look of discomfort, and then dropped her eyes to where the silken black sheets covered him, cheeks flushing prettily.

Spike squirmed. They were _very_ naughty thoughts.

Getting up quickly, Buffy rolled her eyes and said, "Come on then. Let's go _chat_ while Spike here takes care of his problem". She giggled, and the two of them left, Buffy shutting the door behind them.

Spike let out a sigh, hand drifting beneath the sheets. It was torture, wanting Buffy, never having her, never wanting anybody else in her place. He hoped she appreciated just how much he was restraining himself for her sake.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the naughty thoughts he'd been having. Two golden Buffys twined around him, around each other, two sets of pouty pink lips begging him for more. That did it. He was soon up and dressed, and he opened the door to see the pair of Buffys arm-wrestling. That led to images of full-body wrestling… naked… with oil… and him in the middle. He shut the door again.

* * *

Spike sat in the dank caves with Dawn, the Buffybot guarding the entrance.

"You want to know what I'm scared of, Spike?" He reached out to the girl, pulled her to him, holding her close. "Me. Right now, Glory thinks Tara's the Key. But _I'm_ the Key, Spike. I am. And anything that happened to Tara is 'cause of me". She began to cry. "Everyone around me is going to suffer and… die. I… this stupid Key must be something horrible… to cause so much… evil".

"Rot!"

"What do you know?"

"'M a vampire. I know something about evil. You're not evil".

Dawn snuffled onto his t-shirt. "Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I'm not evil, but I don't think I can be good".

Spike thought about this for a moment, wondering how to comfort her. "Well, I'm not good, and I'm okay".

She gazed up at him, so different and yet so like her sister. She sniffled. "I can see why Buffy loves you".

"You think she loves me?"

"Duh".

"She still crying 'cause of me?"

Dawn considered. "Not as much as she used to. But I know she spends a lot of time worrying about you".

"Really? How d'you figure?"

She gave him a mischievous look. "I know where she keeps her diary".

"And what else does big Sis have to say about me".

"The usual – 'I know he's evil and has no soul, what will I do if he starts killing again…'"

"Nothing… good?"

Her cheeks flaming, Dawn mumbled, "A whole lot of things I wish I could forget".

Spike smiled slowly. "Huh".

* * *

"I wish Mom was here".

"Me too, Dawnie. But she's still recovering, and with Glory coming after us… she's safer at our aunt's house. We'll see her soon".

"How are we going to stop Glory?"

"Working on it. But I know we will. When have we ever failed? Plus, we've got Spike and the Buffybot to help protect you now, so don't worry, okay?"

* * *

"Look at that! The light… it's so pure!" Tara moaned, pointing at Dawn. "Such a pure, green energy. It's so beautiful!"

Buffy turned to Glory, hoping she didn't understand, but… she did. It was too late.

She tore out of Tara's room, Dawn clutched tightly in her grasp, screaming "Run!"

Spike caught up to her, hoisted Dawn easily over his shoulder. The three of them took off across campus, away from the Hellgod, but it was no use. She followed them in a blur of speed, suddenly cutting them off.

"Spike!" Buffy hissed. "See the truck?"

His eyes flicked up the road and back again, and he nodded subtly.

"I really hate it when people touch my things," Glory snapped. "Last words, Slay-runt?"

"Just one". She hesitated, gave Glory a slight push backwards. "Truck".

An air-horn blared and the truck slammed into Glory, carrying her down the street. Spike pushed Dawn into Buffy's arms and followed the truck, calling "Maybe I can finish her," over his shoulder.

Buffy ran the opposite direction, through the park, until her breath was ragged. "I have to… I have to catch my breath," she panted, setting Dawn down.

"What now?" her not-so-little sister asked, terrified.

"We leave. We get out of town. We're not ready for her, so let's not be here when she comes knocking".

Spike had caught up to them, and she turned to him. "Remember when you wanted to run away with me, leave it all behind? Today's your lucky day".

"Alright then. Let's get my car, road trip it is".

"We can't take your car. We won't all fit," Buffy protested.

Spike looked around. "I'm only counting three of us, Slayer. We grab Slayerbot, that makes four".

"No!" she insisted. "_All_ of us. I'm not leaving them here for Glory to brain suck".

Spike eyed her. "Whatever you say. We gotta get downtown first, anyhow. Then, what, should I steal an RV or a bus?"

"Whatever. But what happened with Glory?"

"Don't know. She was gone by the time I got there. Funny thing, though, could have sworn I saw your friend Ben out of the corner of my eye. Wearing a dress just like Glory's. Which – odd enough – but remember I was going to check up on him? Nobody's seen him all this time. And now he's back?"

"You know what? We don't have time for your jealousy. Whatever's up with Drag Queen Ben, I don't care. Let's get moving".

They flanked Dawn, heading quickly for downtown, and were soon at Spike's apartment. He grabbed an axe from his closet and called to the Buffybot.

"You should have made her more like the Terminator," Dawn joked weakly. "All 'I'll be back' and stuff".

Downstairs once more, Buffy turned towards the Magic Shop, saying "I hope the others are there," but Spike shook his head.

"Nothing doing, Buffy. We don't have time for them. 'M sorry," and he grabbed her in a choke hold. She flailed against him, but it was no use. As everything grew dim, she could hear Dawn screaming, and Spike ordering the Buffybot to hang on to her sister.

Her last thought was that she was going to kill Spike.

* * *

A/N: How does the Buffybot know Spike's sporting wood? Because she has freaking x-ray vision. Or something. Just accept it!


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Notes:**

I have to say, Spuffy fanfic writers are waaaaay better than regular romance writers. I've been reading a variety of popular romance authors for 'research' purposes, and half the time I can't even finish the book, they're so awful. We here in the Buffyverse are spoiled by the plethora of incredibly talented writers out there.

* * *

The first thing Buffy noticed was an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Cracked leather seat beneath her cheek. Smoky, boozy smell. Rumbling car engine. Hands and feet tied together.

She sat up with a gasp. The Slayerbot was in the back seat next to her, Spike and Dawn in the front. "I thought we were past this stage in our relationship," she groused. Looking out the window, she saw they were still in Sunnydale. She glared at the rearview mirror, where Spike's reflection should have been, and said, "You are so dead. Stop this car right now, unless you want me to beat you death".

"No".

"No?" she repeated incredulously. "I don't think I heard you right".

"No. The others are just going to get in our way. You want me to help you protect Dawn, you do it my way".

"Willow's the only one who's even been able to touch Glory. I need her! And Giles, with the research. And… And I can't leave them there. Glory will kill them!"

He didn't answer, only drove faster. Buffy began to struggle against the ropes, but the 'bot pinned her to the seat. "Get her off me," she growled.

Spike sighed melodramatically, lighting up a smoke. "Listen up. I don't give a rat's arse about any of your other bloody Scoobies. I'm here to keep you and kid Sis alive, that's it, and odds are much higher in my favor without a lot of pathetic hangers-on hanging on. Got it?"

"No! I don't!" She was practically screaming. "This is… this is the kind of plan a soulless monster comes up with! I don't leave people behind to their fate!"

Spike turned around in his seat, the car swerving as he let go of the steering wheel. Dawn squealed, grabbing the wheel as the vampire fixed Buffy with a cold look. "Yes, you do. You leave people to their fates all the time. Every day, when you decide to patrol one cemetery instead of the other, somebody dies because you weren't _there_. When you stay in Sunnydale instead of roaming the wide world, the people elsewhere don't have a Slayer to protect them, and they die". He turned forward once more, took the wheel back. "You subconsciously make a choice about who to save every day, because face it, _Slayer_. You can only save so many". Spike flicked the cigarette out the open window. "And the same goes for me. I made a choice".

"But… I love them. I can't let them get hurt," she responded weakly.

Spike turned around once more, this time with a sad smile on his face. "Exactly".

Oh. He'd picked the ones he loved to save. Much as Buffy would do. She did put her friends and family first, because, well, she had to. Spike was right, she couldn't save everybody.

The big difference was, he didn't care about the ones who were left to their fates. She did. She would always try to save as many as she could. As Angel's confused, freshly re-souled face flashed across her mind, she realized she would even put those others before her loved ones if she had to. Hadn't she proven that already?

"Dawn! Talk some sense into him!"

Her sister turned her tear-stained face to glare at Spike. "I tried. He's pretty determined".

They were on the outskirts of town now, vast stretches of empty desert along the side of the road. She wasn't going to let him leave Sunnydale, wasn't going to accept his decision. Buffy was about to argue more when – _WHUMP!_ Something hit the car and it swerved, Spike letting out a "Bloody hell!" as he tried to wrestle the automobile back into submission, slowing it down.

"I think something popped the tire," Dawn said, peering out the open window.

"Dawn, down!" Buffy screeched, and her sister obeyed, an arrow suddenly whizzing through the space her head had just occupied and lodging itself in Spike's arm.

"What the bleeding hell is going on?" Spike bellowed as a bevy of mounted knights surrounded the car. He began to speed up again, but with an audible POP, the other tires were suddenly flat. He kept going, the car jouncing on its rims, but not nearly fast enough to lose the horsemen.

"Knights of Byzantium. They want to destroy the Key!" Buffy shouted. "Undo me, quick!"

"Do it!" Spike told the 'bot, then asked, "Destroy the Key? Wouldn't that mean…?"

"Yes, yes! We have to stop them!" The ropes were undone and Buffy reached forward, hauling Dawn into the back. "On the floor! You!" she told the Slayerbot, "On top of her, don't let anyone get to her!"

Spike wrenched the car to a spinning stop, turning it sideways so the broad side was to the galloping men who were now reining their horses in and whirling back towards them. "Only way out is to fight. Weapons in the trunk". He swiveled in his seat, taking stock of their opponents. "Slayer, I'm telling you right now, I'm going for the kill. Too many for you to be getting squeamish about human lives".

"Oh, God, no!" she cried. "We can't!"

"You can't. I can. It's us or them, Buffy," he told her as they crawled out of the driver's door onto the hot cement. "Who do you want to be alive at the end of this? Dawn or some role-playing reject?" He reached into the trunk, handed her a crossbow. "Personally, I'm not choosing the Knights of Hack'n'Slash".

"Maybe… maybe we can capture their leader instead. Maybe that would make them give up". She peeked over the top of the car. "My guess it's the extra-tattoo-y guy".

Spike suddenly grabbed her and kissed her hard. "I love you Buffy. Because of this. How you never give up, always try to do what's right. It's sick and it's wrong, but I swear, you are the most wonderful woman in the world".

Buffy couldn't reply. She stared at him, trying to catch her breath, stunned.

"Right". He gave her a wry smile. "Use the crossbow to aim for the horses, bring them down".

Buffy sensed him coiling to spring away and grabbed his arm. "What about you?"

"I'm going to go be a bloody hero". He leapt to the roof of the DeSoto. "Come on then, lads! Who wants to have a go with ol' Spike here?" he called out gleefully, swinging his broadsword in an arc.

She stopped thinking and went into Slayer mode, aiming for the horses with deadly precision, taking down as many of the twenty-plus that she could with a minimum of bolts. She didn't even register the sounds of wounded horses screaming. A few of the mounted knights had made it back to the car and Spike was taking them on, thrusting the sword and taunting them with equal enthusiasm.

One knight slipped past Spike, reaching in through the open window of the DeSoto. Buffy dropped the crossbow and moved to stop him, but the Slayerbot suddenly rose up from the floor of the car and snapped his neck with a twist of her hands. Buffy shuddered in horror and swallowed, trying to remind herself that this was war. People died in war. But she still couldn't get over the image of herself coldly snapping the man's neck or his lifeless staring eyes.

_Death is your gift_.

She really didn't want it to be.

Buffy shot the last of the crossbow bolts and then reached into the trunk for an axe. More than half of the horses were down, the others shying away from Spike with frightened screams. A dozen or so men were scattered about the road, dead or unconscious. The vampire had abandoned the high ground and was in the midst of the remaining knights, laughing in glee, yellowed eyes alight with the joy of battle.

Buffy couldn't feel any joy, only a sick dread in the pit of her stomach. If she failed, her sister died. It drove her harder.

Spying the man she'd picked as the leader at a distance from the others, she dove into the fray in front of her. Mr. Tattoo was still mounted, bellowing instructions to the others. Buffy wasn't too sure about horses, but she figured there was no time like the present to learn how to ride one. Placing a hand on a rider-less horse's sweaty rump, she vaulted into the saddle, almost dropping the axe as the horse bolted.

Spike saw her. "Grab the reins!" he shouted, and she did, yanking hard on them. The horse twisted and stopped. Recalling every _Black Stallion_ book she'd read as a child, she nudged the horse with her heel until it was pointed in the leader's direction, then kicked it hard. It shot forward, Buffy almost falling backwards. Luckily she had Slayer agility, whether on the horse or on the ground.

She cautiously raised herself up so she was crouching on its back. As her mount approached the other horse, it began to shy away. Tensing, Buffy calculated the distance and leapt from her horse to the leader's, vaulting a distance that surprised even her. She wrapped her free arm around Tattoo and yanked him to the ground with her as she slid down the other side. His horse bolted away from them, and she quickly had him under control, the axe pressed to his neck.

"Hey!" she hollered. "I've got your, uh…"

"General," he supplied with a sneer.

"General! So lay down your weapons if you want him to live!"

"They won't, you know," he told her confidentially. "All that matters is destroying the Key so the Beast cannot attain it. My life is unimportant by comparison".

Buffy hardened. "Then they'll all die". She hoped not, she really did. But he had to believe she was capable of it.

He hadn't lied. Not a single knight stopped their attack. She couldn't bear just watching, so she knocked the General out cold and tied him up with the reins she'd pulled off a downed horse.

Joining Spike, she asked, "How you doing?" The vampire was still going strong, each cut he received healing instantly, each arrow lodged in his heart being pulled out without a second thought.

"Smarts a little, but these wankers are no match for me". He laid another one flat with a blow of his sword to the top of the knight's head. "You'll be glad to hear some of them will even live, Slayer".

She gave him a smile of gratitude and turned back to her own opponent, dodging the mace he was expertly swinging. Soon, the last knight was down, riderless horses milling about in confusion.

Dawn poked her head out from the back seat, the Buffybot sparking from various cuts beside her. "Wow. You guys are amazing".

Buffy gave Spike an admiring look. "Yeah. He kinda is, isn't he? Good thing he's fighting for us".

He closed the distance between them and looked down at her. Buffy shivered as he reached out and ran a hand through her hair. "Always. Never doubt it," he said, his voice rumbling.

She leaned into his hand for a moment, smiling sweetly at him, then let fly several punches in rapid succession, breaking his nose and driving him to his knees.

"Bloody hell! What was that for?"

"Kidnapping me again. Not listening to my orders".

Letting out an angry grunt, Spike climbed back to his feet, getting in her face. "I'm not one of your sodding little Scoobies to be ordered about, Slayer".

"You promised! To listen to me! To obey me when it came to moral decisions!"

"And you promised to stand by me and not write me off anytime you get pissed at me!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't really mean it did I?" She winced even as the words left her mouth.

Spike blinked furiously, his blue eyes stormy, the muscle in his jaw ticking. "Sometimes… I don't know why I bother" he said bitterly. She relaxed her posture, backing down, but didn't reply. "I can make plans too, you know," he ground out. "Have over a century's experience at staying alive, getting out of scrapes".

Buffy gestured to the carnage around them. "Uh-huh. I've seen how well your plans work out. What the hell are we going to do now?"

Dawn looked up and down the deserted road. "Start walking?"

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No, we have to get out of here quickly. I'm not going to risk running into more of these knight guys". She eyed the horses.

Spike saw her look. "That might work for the rest of you, but they're not going to carry me. Vampire," he added by way of clarification.

"Not the best plan anyhow, considering this is the closest I've ever been to a horse. Can we drive your car back?"

Spike patted his DeSoto consolingly, assessing the damage it had sustained. "Not as fast as you'd like. But it'll be faster than walking, I wager".

They piled back in, Buffy hauling the General into the back seat. "We can question him," she explained. "See what he knows about Glory".

She wedged him between her and the still sparking Slayerbot. "Is she okay?" Dawn asked, pointing to the 'bot.

"I need maintenance, but I am functional," Robo-Buffy spoke up, startling them all.

"Well, Slayer, you get your wish. Only way to go is back," Spike scowled as they slowly bumped along.

* * *

It was just past dark when they finally jounced to a stop in the back of the Magic Box. Anya and Xander were there alone, sitting in the training room, surrounded by weapons. Xander's face was a mix of relief and dread when he saw them.

"Where have you been?" he cried. "We've been looking all over for you!"

Buffy glanced out the door at Spike dragging the General out of the car, but all she said was, "We ran into a pack of Knights of Byzantium and had a bit of a scuffle".

"And Glory?" Anya asked worriedly.

Shrugging, Buffy said, "We don't know. I pushed her into the front side of a speeding truck this morning, but something tells me that won't slow her down for long".

"It was awesome!" Dawn interjected, but Buffy silenced her with a look. She'd noticed Xander and Anya fidgeting nervously, far more than she would have expected.

"What's up guys?"

The couple looked at each other, clearly hiding something.

"You know, maybe we should wait for Giles and the others to get here…" Xander began, but Anya wasn't so reticent.

"You were right, a speeding truck was not enough. Glory has your mother".

Buffy stared at Anya, unable to process her words.

"What do you mean?" Dawn squeaked.

"We were – Willow went to your house to look for you, after the whole Glory incident…"

"We were looking everywhere. We were very frightened," Anya added.

"And your mom was at your house. She told Willow that she felt better and couldn't take hiding out anymore". Xander looked like he was about to cry. "Glory showed up looking for you guys too. Willow tried to stop her, but… she was kinda worn out from earlier".

"Glory told Willow she would trade. Dawn for your mother. She said it would be a good trade since Dawnie wasn't really your sister," Anya informed them matter-of-factly. "Of course, we don't feel that way. You are very real to us," she assured the younger girl.

Buffy sank onto the ground, white, trembling. "I can't… I… Mom?"

Spike had entered, the General in tow. "The Beast will stop at nothing to achieve her ends," the knight said. "She will destroy everything in this world, and the only way to stop her is to obliterate the Key".

Buffy didn't even react. She sat slumped on the ground, staring emptily at nothing.

Spike frowned at her and cuffed the General back into oblivion. "You shut up".

Dawn had run to Buffy and was holding her hands, looking into her empty eyes. "Buffy! Buffy! Come on!" She turned to the rest of them. "What's wrong with her?" she cried out in anguish.

"'Spect she's deep in thought, thinking up a clever plan, Niblet," Spike said, gently tugging her away. "Let her be, yeah?"

Giles came in at that moment, Willow and Tara by his side. "We've been everywhere," he began, and then caught sight of Buffy. "And she's right here".

Willow went up to her, but then frowned. "What's up with the blank stare?"

"I think we broke her," Anya said. "She didn't take the news about her mother very well".

Giles looked grim. "I see. It was probably one blow too many".

Buffy could hear them talking around her, but it was meaningless. For a second, just a moment, she had considered Glory's trade. Because… _Mom_. It was too much. And it did break her. She wanted to give up, let somebody else shoulder the responsibility and make all the hard decisions.

So she sat staring, tuning the others out, keeping her mind a numb blank slate.

* * *

Spike looked around, the assembled group panicking at the loss of their leader. Another glance at Buffy showed that the Slayer's mind was still on walkabout. He supposed he might be responsible for that. If they hadn't run, she would have been here and protected her mum. On the other hand, Glory might have snatched the Niblet instead, and they'd be far worse off. There was no time for self-recrimination. Somebody had to step up and take charge. He figured he'd have to be the one to do it.

Willow beat him to the punch. "Okay. Listen up. Buffy's not quite…" she trailed off for a moment, then regained her resolve. "She's taking a break. But that doesn't mean we should all just sit here, because Glory is out there. She wanted us to meet her in front of the old high school tomorrow at nine A.M. to make the exchange, but that's not going to happen. We all know Buffy would never be okay with a trade, and I'm pretty sure none of us here think that's the right way to go either".

"I do," Dawn whispered.

"Dawnie!" several voiced cried out.

"What? It's true. I'm not even real, and it's… Mom".

Spike spoke up. "Never make a deal with the devil, sweet thing. We're not the honorable type, isn't that right Anyanka?" Anya nodded and Spike went on. "You try to trade with Glory and she'll end up with you in her clutches and Mum dead before you can blink. Our best bet is to storm the castle, rescue Joyce".

"It's almost time! I have places to be!" Tara burst out in a dismayed voice. They all looked away, unnerved by her outburst.

"But how do we rescue Mrs. Summers? We have no idea where Glory is," Xander said, frustrated.

"I know. I went looking for her, after she hurt Tara, but I never found her. Locator spells did nothing," Willow confessed.

"The snake". Everybody turned to look, surprised. Buffy gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry guys. I was…"

"Taking a break," Willow said kindly. "Perfectly acceptable. But we're glad you're all recharged now. The snake?" she prompted.

Spike let out an internal sigh of relief. The Slayer was back. He moved a little ways away, lighting up a fag but still listening in.

"The giant cobra thing-y. It was headed for Glory. I bet she lived somewhere near where I killed it".

"That isn't much to go on, my dear," Giles began, but at the angry looks everybody shot him he quickly hurried to add, "but a good place to start searching. Perhaps Spike…?"

Spike would have rather been assigned to fighting duty, but he supposed if they did find Glory, he was the best one to stand up to her. "Yeah, sure, mate. Then what?"

"We need cell phones," Dawn said. "We should join the modern era".

"If the world doesn't end, it'll be the first thing on our to-do list," Buffy smiled. "Spike's right. If we do find Glory, what then?"

"We should make a list of assets," Anya said excitedly.

Spike snorted. "Buffy. And Buffy. And me. And Buffy. That's it".

"No, there's the Buffybot," Dawn added.

"And me," Willow said. "I'm ready for another round with the Hellbitch".

"But that's not enough. We've had all those things and we haven't stopped Glory yet," Anya protested. "We need more assets".

Giles rounded on her, annoyed. "Well what else do you suggest Anya? You don't bring anything to the table yourself except your un-infectious enthusiasm".

"Well… Oh! The magical glow-y Dagon's Sphere! We should have that downstairs somewhere. You said that slowed Glory down – it might drive her back or hurt her". Buffy nodded vigorously. "And…she's a god, right? You wanna fight a god, use a god's weapon! Like Olaf the Trollgod's enchanted Hammer!"

"Nah, that thing's too heavy!" Spike rolled his eyes in disgust, but Buffy ran from the room and came back carrying the hammer. "My mistake," he corrected himself with a smile. "Yeah. Good".

"I like this. Good heft to it. I bet I can do some damage with this. Great ideas, Anya," she praised.

The ex-demon blushed. "Here to help. Want to live!"

"Smart chicks are so hot!" Xander proclaimed, giving Anya a squeeze.

Willow pouted. "You couldn't have figured that out in tenth grade?"

"Enough children!" Giles snapped. "Indeed, those are wonderful ideas, Anya. What else have we got?"

"Slayerbot needs a bit of a tune-up after our run-in with the RenFest losers, but she's got the strength" Spike said.

"I'll take a look at her," Willow replied.

"Oh, and the General!" Buffy reminded them, pointing to the unconscious man. "I bet he can tell us a lot about Glory, since his whole life is devoted to stopping her".

"I know a fella, demon really, connected to the goings on of the underworld. Shady sort, but bookish, might have some useful info for us, maybe be able to suss out Glory's game plan" Spike contributed.

Buffy looked around. "Anything else?"

Willow looked at Tara. "I've been doing some research. Into how to reverse what Glory did to Tara. I know it shouldn't have been my priority, but…"

Buffy went to Tara and stroked her hair, the blonde leaning into her. "Of course it should".

Smiling gratefully, the redhead said, "I think if I can get close enough to Glory and Tara at the same time, I can reverse what she did, and it might hurt her. A little. Maybe enough to help. Or it might make our heads explode".

"That's a big negatory on the exploding heads, but I'm hip to the rest of it," Buffy said. She stood up and clapped her hands with renewed energy. "Strategy time!" Spike moved back closer to the group.

"Spike and I will go try to find Glory's lair. And maybe go visit the demon guy he was talking about. Giles, you see what you can get out of General Tattoo. Willow, you're on the Buffybot. Xander, Anya, you guys back them up".

She turned to Dawn. "I want you to go to sleep. Get some rest, because I have the feeling we're going to need it". She walked up to her sister and held her close. "Don't worry, okay? We'll find Mom and I will _kill_ that skanky god for even laying a finger on her. Understand?"

Dawn nodded mutely.

Buffy hefted the troll hammer over her shoulder. "Come on Mr. Bloody. We've got a God to hunt".


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's Notes:**

I've been cleaning up the first few chapters (very minor things, like grammar and a few word subsitutions). I don't know if my followers get notices about edits of earlier chapters, but I promise that while they hopefully flow better now, there is no reason to reread. Unless you want to.

Standard disclaimers: Joss Whedon and his talented staff of writers blah blah blah (but not a disrespectful blah blah blah).

Finally convinced the hubby to watch Buffy with me, and partway into S2, I've realized that Buffy ran extremely hot and cold with Angel. So it's not just Spike she can't make up her mind about. Interesting.

* * *

Buffy stood in the middle of the park, looking around. This was where she'd killed the transformed cobra, but she had no idea where to go next.

"Not a lot of underground places 'round here," Spike commented through a cloud of smoke. She waved it away with a cough.

"I don't think she'd be underground. She's a god, not a vampire. Can't see her hiding out in a crypt".

"Nothing wrong with a crypt".

"Yeah. Except, at least she seems to have taste".

"Oi!"

She smiled at him. "No, I think she's going to have a nice place". She spun in a circle. "Which would you say in the poshest building near here?"

Spike turned too, examining the possibilities. "That one," he said definitively with a pointed finger.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Why?"

"Based on the scabby minion types that just went inside. Come on," he wrapped his hand around hers and tugged her forward.

She glanced down at his larger hand, realizing something. "Hey. You stopped painting your nails!"

Spike rolled his eyes but didn't slow down. "You just notice this now? I'm amazed anything gets past you".

"Sorry I've been too distracted to notice your bad fashion sense lately!"

"Not lately, sweetheart. Stopped painting them months ago".

"Oh". Buffy considered that. "Well I guess it just looked so much better I forgot to say anything". Okay… that didn't make any sense, but she held her head high and went with it. "Do you think she's okay?" she went on in a quieter, more tremulous voice.

Spike halted abruptly, right outside the building, pulling her into his embrace. "Yes. Glory's going to want to hold her out as bait. S'what I'd do".

Buffy leaned back so she could look deep into his eyes. "If you were still evil".

Her eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed. "Right. If. Which I'm not". He swallowed again when she reached out and caressed his bobbing Adam's apple.

"You didn't kill all those knights," she said quietly, her eyes moving up to his lips, fingers still hovering over his throat. Totally inappropriate timing, but it seemed important to know. "Did you want to?"

His response was deep and low. "Yes".

"But you didn't. Would you have killed them all if I wasn't there?"

"Buffy. Pet. You can't… that's not… It was a battle. People – good people, bad people – they kill the other side in battle. It doesn't have anything to do with being evil. It has to do with staying alive".

"Do – do you feel bad about the ones you killed?"

Spike let out a sigh like a whimper. "Don't ask me questions you won't like the answer to, luv," he said in a subdued voice. "'M doing my level best to not be evil, but it doesn't make me broody and remorseful-like. You know that".

And she did. What more could she ask of him, really?

"Spike," she said softly, "I still…" It cost her something to go on. "I _do_ mean what I promised. To stand by you. I can't… it's harder now, after everything… but I still want to help you. You're…"

"Shhh, pet," he cut her off. "S'more than I deserve from you, I know".

They were both standing perfectly still, motionless except for the soft rise and fall of their chests. Buffy wrenched her eyes away from his lips and rested her head on his chest, feeling it move beneath her. Why did he breathe when he didn't need to? She'd have to ask him later.

With a heartfelt squeeze, she let go and stepped away. "Mom," was all she said, and he was striding forward beside her once more, opening the door to the lobby.

The elevator was going up when they entered, and it didn't stop until the display read 'P'. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Penthouse. What'd I tell you? Delusions of glory".

Spike chuckled at her pun and gestured down the hall. "Stairs? Be sneaky-like?"

* * *

"I still don't understand. Why would Ben be living with Glory?" the Slayer said quizzically as they headed back downtown.

Spike huffed in exasperation. His girl wasn't always the brightest. "Not living with Glory. _Is_ Glory".

"That's just silly. You can't be two people at once".

"No, it makes sense. Explains why Glory was gone after the truck hit her, and Ben was there. And why the wanker was in drag. They must have switched".

Buffy pouted. "Why are you so obsessed with Ben? Geez, he just gave me his phone number. Glory is the one we need to be worrying about".

He glared at her, but she didn't seem to be fooling around. She really couldn't keep the thought that Ben was Glory in her mind. "Ahhh…. I get it. Tricky mojo".

"What is?"

"Nothing". He switched the unconscious minion to his other shoulder. "Let's get this scabby lump back to the Watcher, see what he can get out of it".

"Buffy! You're back!" Xander said when they entered the Magic Shop. "But I'm guessing from the lack of Mom-age that you were unsuccessful".

"Oh we found Glory's alright. But she's cleared out. Did get a consolation prize at least," she pointed to the minion. "Maybe he – she? It? Will have answers".

Spike deposited the creature on the ground. "Gonna have to clean the leather now," he grumbled.

"You know what was weird? Ben – you know, nice intern Ben? He's living with Glory".

The others looked at Buffy. Spike spoke up, sure it would be a futile exercise. "No, luv, Ben _is_ Glory. They're one and the same. Two beings in the same body. Time-sharing, if you will". Absolutely nobody seemed to cotton on, and he sighed.

"Why would Ben be living with Glory?" Willow wondered.

"That's what I was asking!" Buffy exclaimed. "And Spike says he dresses in drag. Good thing I never called him for a date".

"I did learn some useful information from the General," Giles interrupted. He said that the Beast was banished to Earth 25 years ago, to inhabit the body of a newborn male. If only the identity of the vessel could be discovered, the human could be killed, and Glory along with him".

Spike gritted his teeth. "Bloody hell. Ben. The vessel is Ben. We kill Ben, we kill Glory".

Buffy rounded on him. "Look, Spike, this jealousy thing is getting out of control. I have no interest in Ben. There's no need to be making death threats against him!" The others were staring at him in equal amounts of horror and disquiet.

"GAHRRR!" he screamed. "You lot!" He had to force himself to keep from ripping all their heads off. He closed his eyes, counting backwards, trying to ignore them.

"What's on his last nerve?" Xander asked sotto voice.

"I have no idea". Buffy sat down at the table. "Any other progress?"

"I've got the Buffybot up and running," Willow told her.

"And we found the Dagon's Sphere!" Anya said proudly, holding it up, then shooting a guilty smile at Xander.

Looking at the clock, Buffy said, "Dawnie asleep?"

"Up there," Giles pointed to the book loft.

"I don't think Glory's going to bother us tonight. Why don't we all try to catch a few winks? I know I'm running on fumes".

Spike listened to the others agreeing with the Slayer, but he couldn't add his voice. He was nowhere near tired yet. He sat down next to Buffy. "Gonna go see that fellow I told you about, see what I can find out".

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks Spike. You've been a real – ass..et". Buffy chuckled tiredly at her joke and laid her head down on the table. He stroked her hair for a few minutes, until he felt her relax, ordered the Buffbot to guard the others, and left to go find Doc.

He would have liked to pack Buffy and Dawn back in a car and taken off again, but there was Joyce. He loved Buffy's mom too, maybe not as much as the girls did, but enough. Enough that he couldn't leave her behind, even though he suspected the chances of saving her were slim to none.

He was back before the sun rose, the ornate box full of scrolls that Doc had tried to burn clutched in his hands, Doc himself dead on the floor of his apartment. Shame, that. The old demon was a valuable resource.

Spike listened to the sounds of slumber, gentle breathing and calm heartbeats, then laid down on the floor near the books, ready to catch a little kip himself.

* * *

It was barely past sun-up when Buffy woke, smacking her lips groggily and wiping the drool from her mouth with disgust. Sleeping at a table was not a pleasant way to spend the night. She stretched, trying to work out the kinks, and looked around.

Her friends were strewn about in various postures of repose. Yawning, she stood up to check on her sister. Spike was sleeping at the foot of the ladder to the loft, his coat bunched under his head for a pillow. He looked like a fallen angel, all sleepy yumminess. She smiled involuntarily at the sight of him, then shook her head to clear the thought. The number of inappropriately lusty thoughts she'd been having for the vampire had been increasing lately. If she kept this up, she'd be jumping his bones any day now, and it wasn't a path she was going down.

What she'd told him last year still stood. She couldn't trust him, couldn't give him her heart the way she wanted to. Only yesterday he'd kidnapped her and run, against her express wishes, proving she couldn't rely on him to do what was right. And that meant no jumping him, no matter how much she might long for even one of his bone-melting kisses. That path would only lead to more heartbreak.

She couldn't take any more.

Buffy squirmed, trying to suppress the desire that was building. If only she didn't remember their 'wedding night', didn't know what she was missing out on. It just wasn't right that necrophilia was what got her motor revving.

Ugh.

Neither was it fair that she was a twenty year old woman who'd gotten intimate a grand total of three times – four for her body. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in getting naked with a hunky man, she was – very much so. Vibrators only went so far. The problem was, nobody much interested her after Spike. And he was way off limits, especially considering the very mixed signals her body was sending about him.

Desire mixed with extreme uneasiness was not a good combination.

She stifled the urge to straddle him and kiss those sinful lips until he woke, instead climbing the ladder and peeking at Dawnie. Her sister was still in dreamland, rump in the air the way she used to sleep when she was small. An overwhelming feeling of love shot through her. Nothing would get to Dawn. And nothing would harm her mom either.

Resolve firmly in place, she went back down and quietly woke the others, letting Spike sleep on.

* * *

"I don't like this plan either, but it's the best we've got," Buffy said resolutely, choosing a sprinkled donut from the box. "We have to assume Glory is going to be there early too, setting her own trap, so we've got to go now".

Anya eyed the Slayerbot. "It's too bad we don't have a Dawnbot too".

"Damn. Why didn't we think of that earlier?" Xander said.

"Whatever. Too late now".

"I'm just saying – after cell phones for all, the next project is robot doubles of everyone. Imagine the possibilities," Xander joked.

"Xander Harris, you are going to distract me from my job with ill-timed lust-ridden thoughts!" Anya smacked him. "I can't be distracted by the thought of two Xanders right now".

Spike smiled slyly as he caught Buffy's eye, and she blushed furiously, remembering his reaction to two Buffys.

"Yes, well, lusty thoughts aside," she mumbled as Dawn squealed, "Ew. Teenage ears!" at the same time.

Buffy tried again in a more authoritative voice. "Is everybody clear?"

"Your wish is my command, m'lady," Spike said facetiously with a mocking half-bow.

"Don't start" she warned him, and turned to Dawn. "You – stay with Xander and Giles, no matter what, do you understand me? I'll come get you soon, with Mom safe and sound, and she's going to want to see you".

Dawn gave her a skeptical smile. "Sit on the sidelines and do nothing. Got it".

"Your role will be the most important," Giles said seriously. "Not letting Glory get her hands on you _is_ the only thing that matters".

"Let's go Dawnie, G-man. We've got some serious hiding to get started on," Xander added.

"Xander, I don't know how many times I have asked you to refrain from calling me that ridiculous name," Giles groused as they headed out the door, gently tugging Tara along with them.

Buffy watched them go. "Is this really the best plan?" she asked the others, panic suffusing her voice.

Nodding firmly, Willow said, "Yes. Even if it's a big fat trick and Glory isn't waiting at the school, she shouldn't be able to find Dawn or the caves, not with the wards Giles has".

"And I need the rest of you with me, to rescue Mom," Buffy conceded in defeat.

"Exactly," Anya said. "Now glamour me up. I can barely take the anxiety I am feeling any longer. I need to be doing something".

* * *

Peering out the boarded-up windows of the abandoned shell of the high school with Spike, Buffy shifted nervously. "Where is she?" she hissed.

Spike spoke into her ear, so low she felt rather than heard the words. "She'll be here. Found those minions of hers lurking in the school, didn't we?"

"I don't know. I just have the feeling something is going to go horribly wrong".

Placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing gently, Spike said, "Look. You and I can't even tell it's not the real thing out there". She looked, and she had to agree. Buffy, Dawn and Willow appeared to be standing on the front steps, waiting uneasily for Glory to arrive, but in actuality it was the Slayerbot, Willow, and Anya glamoured to look like Dawn. "You'll see. She'll be here any minute now and we'll rescue Joyce, be the big heroes".

She relaxed slightly under his ministrations, leaning back into him. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered. He didn't answer, only nudged her. Glory was stepping out of a limo, yanking her mother behind her, minions following along. Buffy stiffened, going into full alert. As soon as Willow cast her spell, it was on her to get Mom out of there.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Glory appeared to be objecting to Willow's presence. Smart. Willow had been the only one to even hurt the god.

The argument went on for several minutes, and Buffy's muscles were screaming with pent-up tension. All they needed was for Glory to let go of her mom and let her walk forward, just far enough away so Willow could cast the spell she'd found. Once it was cast, Glory would be immobile for close to two minutes. They hoped. Buffy and Spike would use the time to spirit the others away in the zippy little red sports car parked to the side of the building. There was no plan to fight the god in any way, only to rescue Joyce and run.

Finally Willow threw up her hands and walked away, in the direction of the car. She could still cast the spell, no matter the distance, but it might be weaker. Buffy hopped from foot to foot. "Come on, let go of Mom…" she muttered under her breath. But Glory didn't, gesturing for 'Dawn' to walk forward first.

"It's not going to work," she told Spike. "We're just going to have to fight her head-on". She quickly moved the few feet from the window to the front door, now able to hear the conversation.

"… you worthless meatbags," the Hellgod was ranting. "I have things to do, dimensions to return to and I _don't_ appreciate you stalling like this. Give me the Key that is just _pretending _to be your sister, or Mommy dearest gets it". Glory sniffed Joyce's head. "I don't think her brain is going to taste very good, but I'm willing to make that sacrifice".

Anya began to move forward, but then a voice rang out. "Stop!"

"Oh, no no no!" Buffy moaned. It was Dawn, the real Dawn, standing across the lawn, holding a dagger over her heart, ready to be driven in. To make matters worse, the girl was on the end of the school opposite the getaway car.

The Slayer pushed the doors open, heedless that she was blowing her cover.

Glory gave her a disgusted look. "Does everybody have a twin here but me?"

Dawn called out in a quavering voice, "Let my Mom go or I'll kill myself. I know you need me alive for the ritual, that's why the Byzantium guy wants to kill me. No living Key, no returning home".

Glory sniffed. "Ballsy, kid. But can you really do it?"

"Yes!" Dawn said, wincing as she pushed the dagger in a tiny fraction. Buffy stood frozen, unsure what to do.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Glory said, licking Joyce's cheek. Joyce shuddered, but remained quiet. "The monks were tricky, making you human. Gave you blood, DNA, family, the whole deal. Which means, if you're the Key… well then Mommy is part Key too". She smiled, and the sight was terrifying. "I can actually use her to do the ritual – even after I suck her mind out. The priests say her color's a bit more blue than green. Not the right shade. It won't be nearly as pretty, probably take a lot more time and effort, but…" she shrugged. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Trade or don't trade. It's win-win for me".

Buffy thought her heart might have stopped. Spike was at her side, completely still, sizing the situation up. "What's the plan?" he whispered.

Willow's voice echoed his question inside her head, startling her.

"Willow?" she said aloud, taken aback.

"I can hear you. What should we do?"

"I'm going to send Spike after Mom. You still do your spell to stop Glory. Tell Anya to have the Slayerbot get her out of there and run interference. I'll get that so-dead sister of mine".

Willow was silent while she relayed the message, then said, "I'll start the spell in exactly 60 seconds. If Spike doesn't have your mom free by then, she'll be frozen too. On my mark. Now".

Buffy had handed Spike the Dagon's Sphere during the pause and reiterated the plan. When Willow said 'now' she yelled "Go!" and took off running across the lawn, unmindful of anything else. Two minions stepped in her way and she shoved them aside, soon reaching her sister.

"You are in so very much trouble!" she growled, tossing the girl over her shoulder and running full-tilt for the car, the dagger dropping as they ran. She could see Spike doing the same to Joyce ahead of her, the 'bot and Anya well ahead of them. Glory stood as though transfixed, and Buffy began to think they might get out of this after all.

It wasn't to be. A minion appeared from nowhere, tripping Buffy and sending her crashing to the ground. As soon as she regained her feet, Glory was there, no longer immobile, ripping Dawn away.

"Nice try, but you should know better than to mess with a God, loser". Buffy attacked, giving it her all, but like before, it didn't even faze the Hellgod. The minions were there too, getting in her way, another one stepping forward as soon as she defeated the previous one.

She tried to stop Glory as she dragged Dawn to the limo, but the Hellbitch put on a burst of super-speed and was in the car, the limo squealing away before Spike could get back with the Dagon's Sphere.

Buffy collapsed onto the ground. Spike tried to haul her back up, but she lashed out at him. "It's over," she keened. "Over, over. She has Dawn. Ohhh… Over… What now?" she wailed at him.

Spike slapped her, her head rocking backwards. "We do what you do best!" he said fiercely. "When the chips are down, that's when you're at the top of your game Slayer. Now come on! It's NOT over yet!"

His words sunk in, and with a great, shuddering breath she pulled herself back together.

"You're right. We rescued Mom, we'll do the same for Dawn".

With one last agonized glance in the direction the limo had gone, she climbed to her feet and marched determinedly to the car where her mom was waiting.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N:** Well, here's the end of S5. _(bites fingernails nervously) _Ten points if you catch the Mrs. Weasley shout-out.

Looking for good Spuffy stories? Check out www DOT spuffy-recs DOT livejournal DOT com

You don't have to be a member of LJ to read or comment, but you do in order to post your own recommendation. If it's on the list, it's almost guaranteed to be a great story. This site was hip-hop-happening for a few months, and then fizzled out right about the time I decided to join and make a few recommendations myself (guaranteed to make a girl paranoid about rejection).

There are enough stories to keep you occupied for months (or weeks if you read as avariciously as me).

* * *

CHAPTER 39

"Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going, makes you warm, makes you hard, makes you other than dead. 'Course it's her blood".

* * *

"Yes we bloody well are! If Glory begins the ritual… if we can't stop her…"

"Say it. Come on, we're _bloody well_ talking about this. Tell me to kill my sister!"

"She's not your sister".

* * *

"You'll fail. She'll die. We'll all die".

"Then the last thing she'll see is me protecting her".

* * *

"Did you say _Ben_ is Glory?"

"_Finally_! Somebody hears me".

"Yes… The magic that separates them must be breaking down, allowing us to perceive their true nature. So Ben is the vessel the General was making reference to".

"As I said before. Over and over. And if we kill him, we kill Glory. Case closed".

"I know he's an innocent, but he's not like 'Dawn' innocent. We could… kill… a regular guy… Oh God, no we couldn't".

* * *

"The spirit guide told me that Death was my gift. I guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all".

"I think you're wrong about that".

* * *

"We don't have to kill her. Just stop her from performing the ritual. There's just the one time she can do it, right?"

"Yeah, we get her on the ropes, we just gotta keep her occupied 'til it's too late".

* * *

"But we still have no idea how to find Glory. The now-dead scabby minion was useless".

"Big day. Big day! It calls out… and I have to be there!"

"It's okay Tara, it's… oh. Big day… Yes… soon".

* * *

"MOM! No! You are not coming with us".

"She's my daughter too. The bitch took her, and I'm not going to sit by and wait. I'm going to help get her back. What do you have in a baseball bat? Or possibly a fire axe?"

"Did you hear what she said? She can use you for the ritual too. You can't be there".

"Don't argue with me, young lady! You may be the Slayer, but I am still your mother!"

"Um, Buffy, don't bite my head off, but… wouldn't that mean Glory could use you too?"

* * *

"We already tipped our hand. She knows about the Slayerbot".

"No, luv, she knows there were two girls that looked exactly alike. She has no idea one's a robot. S'not like it's gonna hurt to bring her along".

"And there's Olaf the Trollgod's enchanted hammer. Built for squashing!"

"Plus brain-suck reversal spell".

"And the Dagon's sphere. She doesn't know about any of those".

"Or me and my Gem of Amarra. Practically indestructible here".

"God… alright. I guess… it'll have to be enough".

* * *

"I'll grab some weapons too".

"I'm looking for something in a broadsword"

"Don't be swinging it near me, Harris".

"Hey, I happen to be -"

"A glorified brick-layer?"

"I'm also a swell bowler".

"He has his own shoes".

"The gods themselves do tremble".

"Spike. Shut up and come with me".

* * *

She clutched his arm as they strode toward her house, almost running through the night. "We're not all gonna make it. You know that".

"I know, pet".

"And if it's me…"

"Never let it happen. You know I'll die first".

"I'm just saying. I'm counting on you, Spike. To protect her. And Mom".

He squeezed her hand. "'Til the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight. Nobody touches the Little Bit or Mum when Spike's around. I promise".

She squeezed his hand back and let go, opening the front door. "Weapons are in the chest by the TV. I'll grab the stuff upstairs".

"Uh, Buffy…"

She turned. Spike was standing in the doorway, inches from her, blocked by the mystical barrier. She stared at him, paralyzed with indecision. Only moments ago, she'd assumed he would walk right in, but now, reminded that he couldn't – because of what he was – she remembered why she'd never re-issued that invitation.

"You gonna invite me in?"

It was such a simple thing to do. Say two little words. _Come in_. She could even do a de-invite later, if she really wanted to.

But she couldn't do it. Couldn't form the words with her lips, couldn't force the appropriate sounds out. Her nerves were frazzled, her sister's life on the line… hell, the fate of the world was on the line, and…

She couldn't let herself trust him that last little bit. With the Gem of Amarra, Spike was powerful. Almost unstoppable. He'd shown himself to be demonic, unreliable, time and again.

Her home was the one place she could hide away from him, and she needed that refuge, that ersatz sense of safety.

Spike was getting frustrated, waiting while she stared mutely at him. "What is this, Slayer? You ask me to take care of your family, entrust their lives to me, but what? I can't come in your home?"

"I…" She couldn't explain, so she said nothing.

"You don't trust me," he said flatly, his wounded blue eyes flashing with pain. "Still. After everything".

"You know what? Exactly. After everything". They glared at each other through the open door, so close they could almost kiss, and yet divided by their natures. Buffy wouldn't move forward, and Spike couldn't. "I trust you with my life. But that's it. The rest of me? No".

"What does it bleeding take?"

The more he pushed, the more it made her resist. Buffy stepped away. "Not the time for this conversation, Spike. We both live through tonight, we'll see what happens. I'll be right back".

"Don't you walk away from me. If you leave…"

She whirled to face him once more. "Are we really going to do this now? Because I don't have time for your neediness".

"Just tell me. Tell me you don't see me as a monster," he insisted desperately. "Admit you love me. Because I'm putting everything I have on the line for you. I'm probably going to die for you tonight, Gem of Amarra be damned, seeing as this is a _God_ I'm going up against. For you. And so help me, I need a reason to do it". He stood trembling in the doorway, need washing off of him, his face a whirlwind of emotion.

How many times now had her faith in him been misplaced? She didn't care if it was the end of the world, didn't care if she needed his help. She wasn't going to let him push her into something she didn't want to do.

Buffy stood hard. Firm. "I… I have feelings for you, William. You know I do. But I will _not_ let myself love you, I simply can't. Because you _are_ a monster, and you don't… Just…" She couldn't continue, couldn't make herself go on, her emotions running riot inside her head.

She looked at him – so vulnerable, so deadly – the love she was denying warring with what she knew he was. No soul. No conscience. No desire to be good beyond pleasing her. It was too much to accept.

"You know what? I have to worry about more important things right now. I'll be back in a moment. Wait or don't wait".

He didn't.

She was actually surprised, and she swallowed, hurt. Even Spike had a limit after all.

She grabbed the keys to the Jeep, needing to hurry. If she dented the car, it wouldn't much matter if everybody was dead, would it? On the same theory, she parked in a loading zone. If the Jeep got towed, they'd worry about it when the world didn't end.

Spike wasn't at the Magic Box either. Damn it. Why couldn't she have just given him what he needed? What the hell was wrong with her? Sure, the vampire screwed up on a regular basis, but nothing he'd done lately had warranted her outright rejection. If only he hadn't pushed her so hard…

There was no time for regret. The others were ready to go.

"Buffy. It's time," Giles said.

"Hey. Where's the ambiguously evil un-dead?" Xander called out.

"He had something to do. He'll catch up". Or not. Too late now. She spied her mom toting a baseball bat. "Mom…" she sighed in exasperation.

Giles put a hand on her shoulder. "It is her decision Buffy. Much as it is the rest of ours to accompany you".

"Fine. Willow? Ready?"

"Tara, baby… Is there somewhere you should be?"

"They held me down…"

"Nobody's holding you. It's the big day, right? Do you want to go?"

Tara rose and exited the shop, seemingly wandering aimlessly.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Willow, stay close but don't crowd her. We'll follow in a minute. Everyone knows their jobs. Remember, the ritual starts, we all die. And I'll kill anyone who comes near Dawn".

"Not the most inspirational speech…" Xander said weakly.

* * *

"Wow! The Slayer's a robot! Did everybody else know the Slayer was a robot?"

Buffy stood behind her, troll hammer at the ready. "Glory… You're not exactly the _brightest_ god in the heavens, are you?"

* * *

"This isn't fair!"

"I'm sorry. You want to rip apart the fabric of reality, destroy my world, kill my sister, and _now_ you're introducing the concept of fairness?" The hammer swung again.

Tears fell. "You're just a mortal. You couldn't understand my pain".

"I guess I'll have to settle for causing it".

"You can't kill me".

"No. But my arm's not even tired".

* * *

"Tell her it's over, Ben. She missed her shot. She goes. She ever – _ever_ – comes near me and mine again…"

"We won't. I swear".

The sound of high-pitched screaming reached her, falling from the sky. "_Dawn!_" She bolted. It couldn't be Glory up there, so who…

Buffy flew up the tower, faster than she'd ever gone in her life, adrenaline driving her. An old a man, a demon of sorts, was brandishing a knife, shallowly slicing her sister's skin, cuts so thin the blood barely trickled out.

"Dawn," she said, and the girl raised her terrified eyes.

"Buffy…"

The demon spoke. "Well. This should be interest-". She didn't even let him finish the word, shoving him off the platform, his screams trailing off as he fell.

"Buffy, it hurts…" Dawn hiccupped as the Slayer untied the ropes.

"I got you. You're gonna be okay".

With a loud crack, a ball of energy sprang into existence beneath them. Dawn stared at Buffy in horror. "It's too late".

She couldn't think, could only drag her little sister away from the edge. "Come _on_!"

Dawn resisted. "I can't. It's started". All around them, the air shook, bolts of energy crackling around them. A rift opened in the dark sky, creatures pouring out of it, as the buildings below them seemed to transform.

The platform swayed violently. "It doesn't matter!" Buffy said fiercely. "Nothing will…" She trailed off as Dawn tried to run back to the end of the platform. Buffy caught up with her and whirled her around, placing herself between Dawn and the edge. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I can end this!" Dawn gasped. "I have to. I have to jump! The energy -".

"NO! It'll kill you".

"I know. It's the only way. I know about the ritual. It's the only way to stop it. Look at what's happening!"

She did. She looked around, at the world being made into hell. Looked down and saw her friends far below, fighting, her mother swinging the bat for all she was worth. Looked and saw Spike was there too, racing up the tower, leather coat streaming behind him like a cape. She smiled to herself. He hadn't abandoned her after all. But it was too late. They all would die. She couldn't swallow past the lump in her throat.

"I have to stop it".

Buffy shook her head desperately. "I don't care, Dawn, I won't lose you!"

"If I don't, we all die. You'll lose me anyways. Once the blood starts flowing, the dimensional barriers won't return until… it has to have the blood," Dawn said, more determined that she had ever been in her short life.

The blood… _Mom's blood. _

_My blood._

_Death is your gift._

A small smile touched her face, and Buffy turned gracefully to face the portal, suddenly serene.

Dawn panicked, realizing what Buffy was thinking.

"Buffy… no…"

"Dawnie, I have to…"

"NO!"

"Listen to me! There's no time, Dawn, please listen". Dawn grew still, and the sisters reached out, cupping each other's faces. "Dawn listen to me. Listen. I love you. I'll always love you. But this is the work I have to do. Tell Giles I... I figured it out. And I'm okay. Give my love to my friends, to Mom. You have to take care of them now – you have to take care of each other. And Spike. Remind him of his promise, to take care of you and Mom until the end of the world. Don't let him dust himself. You have to be strong. Dawn. The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me".

She kissed her sister, then turned to meet her destiny.


	40. Chapter 40

Author's Notes:

Wow, that last chapter prompted a wide range of opinions. This chapter will make things clearer, hopefully. It's short, but this had to stand alone.

I sure do appreciate your comments and support!

* * *

Spike lay on the hard ground, staring at the words in front of him. They were completely fuzzy, thanks to the several empty bottles of Jack Daniels that lay scattered around him. Didn't matter. He had them memorized.

_BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS_

_1981-2001_

_BELOVED SISTER, DEVOTED FRIEND_

_SHE SAVED THE WORLD_

A LOT

She was buried, and it was time. The useless, pointless Gem of Amarra was resting on top of her gravestone, along with the wedding ring he'd once given to her and she'd given back. She had been right to do it. He hadn't been worthy of her, in the end, and she was dead because of him.

He was going to wait right here, drinking until sunrise, and let his dust join the freshly turned earth above her so maybe someday, in a couple hundred years or so, they would finally be together. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The tremendous quantities of alcohol coursing through his system finally knocked him out, his mind slipping into a dream. The same dream he'd had for the last five days, every day since it had happened. He tried to change the course of events in the dream, tried to make it go right, the way it should have, but it never worked. It was useless.

Like him.

* * *

_"Just tell me. Tell me you don't see me as a monster," he insists. "Admit you love me. Because I'm putting everything I have on the line for you. I'm probably going to die for you tonight, Gem of Amarra be damned, seeing as this is a God I'm going up against. For you. And so help me, I need a reason to do it". He stands trembling in the doorway, need washing off of him, all his emotions on display for her to see. _

_He would do anything for her. Everything. He has, over and over, it's the constant refrain in his mind – do anything, be anything for her, just to be hers – and it is never enough. He knows he will never be enough, and is okay with it. But all he wants in this moment, all he needs, is a small token of affection. A crumb. Anything at all, to suppress the demon inside of him, his vampiric nature that is urging him to run from her. To put himself first, not sacrifice his unlife for such an unfeeling bitch. _

_She has shut him down so many times of late, he needs a reminder of why he should bother to try._

_She rejects him. Again. "I… I have feelings for you, William. But I will not__ let myself love you, I simply can't. Because you are_ _a monster, and you don't… Just…" _

_He knows what she is thinking. No soul. Not worthy of her love. He knows that. But he wants her to love him anyways. Just a little. She's admitted it before. He wants to hear it again. Make his sacrifice worth it. _

_"You know what? I have to worry about more important things right now. I'll be back in a moment. Wait or don't wait"._

_He stands there dumbstruck, not believing she can turn her back on him, dismiss him so out of hand, as though he means nothing to her. Something in him snaps and he flees._

_He'd hoped she might have loved him, even a little, just enough to tell him so, but he'd been mistaken._

_When he comes back to his senses, he is blocks away, mindlessly destroying anything in his path. His knuckles are bloodied with embedded bits of glass, and he vaguely recalls smashing a window in. His other hand gives an indication as to why, gripping a mostly empty bottle of booze from a corner store._

_Spike flings it away with a tortured sigh. _

_What does it matter if she's rejected him. Again. He's love's bitch and he's made her a promise. There is no way he is going to leave her or the Little Bit in the lurch._

_He sprints back to the house but she is already gone, her scent fading. The Jeep is missing from the driveway, and he suspects she's driven to the Magic Box. He'd made the mistake of letting her drive his car once. Terrifying. He shudders in fear at the thought of her out on the streets. She might kill herself before she even faces Glory._

_The Magic Box is equally deserted, as he supposes it ought to be. They'd had limited time for their trip to her house, and she must have returned ages ago. He's wasted precious time on his foolish fit of rage. He has the demon inside to thank for that._

_The question is, where are they now? The Jeep and Giles' little red car are still there, as well as Xander's automobile. _

_Oh, right. He recalls the plan had been to walk, to follow Tara. He stands outside on the sidewalk, trying to catch their scent._

_The evening breeze eddies the smells about; garbage and summer foliage, cat piss and humans. Hundreds of humans. He knows the Slayer's scent better than his own, but it is obscured by the rest of the odors._

_Except. The sharp tang of fear penetrates his nostrils, stronger than any of the other scents. Stands to reason the Scooby gang would be fearful. He follows it with agonizing deliberation, down the sidewalk and across the road, the scent rambling ahead of him, pulling him forward. As he follows it away from the Magic Box it grows stronger, no longer covered by the multitude of downtown odors. Eventually he begins to perceive the enthralling scent of the woman he loves, and he is able to move faster, surer now. _

_When he looks up and sees the giant, shaky-looking tower, something that has obviously been recently and hastily built, he stumbles in surprise then hurries forward, understanding that this is where he is headed._

_It is chaos at the base of the tower. Spike wades into the melee, fists flying. Willow sees him. "There you are! Help Joyce – she's surrounded!" He does, laying waste to minions and humans without distinction, working his way closer and closer to the tower itself. He can hear Dawn at the top, calling for Buffy, crying. He has to get to her. He has a promise to keep._

_Something falls from the tower with a scream, and the old demon, Doc, lands near him with a sickening crunch. Spike frowns in confusion. He'd thought Doc was dead. But no matter. There are more minions, more lunatic people in his way, blocking his path to the tower._

_The sound of a violent crack breaks through his frenzied fighting and he looks up to see a large, swirling vortex of energy. Lightning flares around them, turning the world into something hellish and wrong._

_The blood in his veins turns to ice. He is too late. If he'd been here sooner, not let his feelings, his rage, get the better of him… He pushes through the rest of the people at the base of the tower, flying up it. Maybe there is something he can do. Something, anything. Some way to make amends._

_He passes the Watcher, crouching over the still form of Ben, mouth hanging open in dismay as he gapes at the ball of light. Up he goes, farther, faster, never slowing, but when he reaches the top… _

_He's failed. The only thing that has ever truly mattered in his worthless existence, and he's failed. As he crests the ladder, he is just in time to see Buffy turn and dive headfirst into the crackling energy field. He races to the end of the platform, barely even noticing the bleeding teenage. His entire focus is on Buffy's plummeting form as it disappears into the portal and then reappears, the ball of energy winking out of existence with a brilliant flash of light. _

_If only he'd been faster, more clever. Less of a useless wanker of a man. _

_Instead, he has arrived just in time to see her dead body hit the ground below. _

_Broken. _

_Gone._

_._

_.  
_

_.  
_

_Forever._


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's Notes:**

We're going to go with a different perspective for awhile here, but we'll shift back to our lead characters later, don't worry. Let me know how you like it!

You've probably figured out by now that I needed Spike to have a reason to not get there in time, so that Buffy could die. With the Gem, there was no way Buffy would have died with Spike around. I needed everything to play out the way it did, even if it felt like it was a little contrived. But sometimes people make irrational decisions in the heat of the moment, right? Buffy hates being given ultimatums, and Spike is sometimes driven by his emotions. They're not perfect (thank goodness, how would I fit in the angst otherwise?).

A lot of people suggested I should have had Spike catch Buffy and prevent her death, which is a fun idea. I did go back and check the shooting scripts after reading those suggestions in case I was wrong, but the script makes it clear that it was the portal that killed her, not the fall, just a FYI since it's not obvious from watching it.

I'll be kind and let you know right now that we're not going to see the same S6. Circumstances are too different for that. Thank goodness.

* * *

.

_The New Chronicles of Dawn Summers_

_ ._

_May 20, 2001_

_The stupid grief counselor said I should do this, so, whatever. Like I could explain why I burnt all the other diaries I had. I don't see why Mom's making me go to the stupid cow. How could she ever understand?_

_.  
_

_May 28, 2001_

_I had to save Spike's sorry ass again last night. If he doesn't quit trying to kill himself, maybe I'll just let him do it. It's no fun lugging a hundred and whatever pounds of plastered vampire off your sister's grave and away from the rising sun. I doubt I'll be able to convince Giles to go with me tomorrow. He probably won't be able to walk for days. Stupid Spike, putting up a fight._

_Xander and Willow just say good riddance to bad rubbish. There's no convincing them to go with me._

_It doesn't help when Spike agrees with them. The story came pouring out of him the first night we found him there, how was too slow, too late, too evil to save us. How he let Buffy down. Willow and Xander were more than happy to agree with him. It has to be somebody's_ _fault Buffy died, right? And nobody wants to blame me, even though they really should._

_Sometimes, I feel like Mom is watching me, wondering why I lived and her real daughter had to die. I wonder too._

_Spike's the only one I can stand to be around. He and I, we know what it's like, to be the outcasts, the ones everybody is talking about when we're not around. The reason The Chosen One is dead._

_ ._

_May 29, 2001_

_Had to do the Spike haulage again last night. He shouted at me to leave him be, that he would only get me killed too. When I asked him what he meant, he said, "Only ever loved three women". Then he pointed at me and said, "Four now, five with your mum. Killed the first three. Me, all me. Soulless monster, never be anything but a killer. Never be any good. She was right…" _

_It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd stopped there, but he didn't. He vamped and lunged at me, growling, "Run before I kill you too". Luckily he was too drunk to do anything, only tripped and fell on his face._

_He wouldn't say anymore after that, just started sobbing drunkenly. Ever seen a vampire sob drunkenly? It's not pretty._

_ ._

_May 31, 2001_

_I hate Buffy. Live. Of course, easy for her to say. She took the easy way out. Nothing left for her to worry about. No crushing pain for her to live with. She doesn't have to watch Mom wither away, sitting in Buffy's room like a zombie._

_ ._

_June 3, 2001_

_Success. He stayed home last night, and I didn't have to haul his stupid, smelly body into the trees and under a blanket._

_I hope it lasts. I'll scream at him every day if I have to. Not like I enjoyed saying those things to him. But if it keeps him alive… I'll happily remind him how he failed in his promise to Buffy, and does he really want to fail her again? I thought my whole body was going to splinter apart at the look on his face after I said that._

_But it worked. 'Cause he promised to take care of me. And somebody needs to. I may be a stupid sister-killing ball of energy, but I'm still just a kid. Mom's motherly instincts must have died with Buffy, 'cause she hardly even notices I'm around._

_Maybe I should tell the grief counselor to make her start a diary too. She was right, it helps. Just a little. She's still a stupid cow, though._

_ ._

_June 11, 2001_

_I'm spending the night at Janice's. I wonder if mom will even notice that I'm gone._

_Spike swore up and down he wouldn't try to dust himself tonight. I told him I'd kill myself if he did. I'm not sure it's an idle threat. _

_ ._

_June 12, 2001_

_Well that was awkward. I guess losing your sister to a Hellgod's diabolical apocalyptic plan makes it seem pointless to paint your nails and talk about boys. And Janice didn't really know what else to do. Everybody thinks Buffy died in an accident, and I can't tell them the truth, so… can't really make with the heart-to-heart girlfriend conversations._

_I overheard some kids at school saying she died in a car accident. Drunk driving. That's the reason I got suspended for the rest of the year – I tried to beat the crap out of them. It was okay with me. I'd rather be at home anyhow. They're all stupid idiots that don't realize what a hero Buffy was._

_ ._

_June 17, 2001_

_I hate Willow and Xander. They haven't come to see me at all yet. 'Oh don't worry, Dawnie, we'll always be here for you'. Bullshit. I know why. They wish I'd died instead of Buffy. I do too._

_Not Spike though. I know he'd give anything to have Buffy back, but when I ask him if he hates me, if he wishes I'd traded places with Buffy, he says, "Have you gone stark raving mad? She was a sodding hero. Don't dishonor her memory by saying that, Niblet. Let her death mean something"._

_It almost makes me believe him._

_Of course, then he starts in with the 'it should have been me' speech himself. And I have to say the same thing back to him. It makes him smile for almost a whole second when I remind him that he was the last thing she thought about. Well, except me, but that doesn't count, because she was talking to me. Of course I'd be the last thing she thinks about. _

_Anyhow, it lasts one second, until he turns morose and tortured again. God, he's making Angel look all cheerful and non-broody these days. Maybe he should go fight some demons or something, that always cheered him up before Buffy died._

_ ._

_June 20, 2001_

_Mom noticed me today. Actually sat down and noticed me. I've been trying not to bug her, 'cause you know, the whole brain tumor thing. And Spike's been doing an okay job keeping me company and feeding me._

_But it felt really good when she hugged me and said she loved me. Maybe we're going to be okay._

_ ._

_June 23, 2001_

_Tara came by today. She's been by a bunch. She's so sweet. Her mom died when she was younger, and it's not quite the same, but it's something. She kinda understands what I'm going through. She taught me how to levitate a pencil, which I totally sucked at. You'd think being a mystical blob of energy would make me good at magic._

_ ._

_June 25, 2001_

_Mom and I tried retail therapy today. I don't think that'll happen again anytime soon. Almost every conversation started with, 'Oh, Buffy would like this…' or 'Wouldn't this look good on Buffy?' And then we'd remember she was dead._

_The Orange Julius was pretty good._

_ ._

_June 27, 2001_

_Xander and Anya came by today. Finally. Only almost two months since Buffy died. Xander was so goofy I forgave him right away. At least until he found out Spike was living with us and he tried to throw him out._

_Mom had to remind him that it was her house and she could let Spike live here if she wanted to. It didn't go over well._

_It is weird, having him live here, but it was pretty necessary those first few days. For all of us. He's sleeping in Buffy's room now, which – beyond bizarre. Especially since he hasn't changed a single thing. He won't even let Mom wash the sheets. She was going to do it anyway, until I reminded her he had a vamp nose and would definitely notice. I hope the scent comforts him._

_It's probably not as strange as what I do. I've been sleeping with her stakes beneath my pillow. I told Spike before I realized he might take it the wrong way, but he totally got it. He's cool like that. I wish he and Buffy would have figured things out before she died. Then maybe they could have both had a little happiness._

_ ._

_June 30, 2001_

_Mom says she wants to sell the house and move back to LA. Maybe get a condo. I was all set to pitch a fit, but then I realized. What's here for us? We only ever came here in the first place because the Council secretly arranged for her to get the art gallery gig. I haven't seen much of my so-called friends. Or Buffy's so-called friends. And Spike said sure when Mom asked him to come with us._

_So I'm ready. LA, here we come._

_ ._

_July 3, 2001_

_Spike took me out on patrol with him tonight. He said he needed some violence. He's been teaching me to fight, dirty tricks to make up for not having supernatural strength. We saw the gang patrolling with the Buffybot. Spike and I both started running when we saw her. It. But then we realized what it was. I don't know who cried harder, him or me._

_Giles was pretty nice. Came over and talked to me. He apologized for not visiting more often, but he said between Council stuff and trying to keep the Hellmouth safe now that there was no Slayer to guard it, he'd been really busy._

_I must have looked guilty when he said there was no Slayer, because he gave me an actual hug and said he was proud of me, in a very British way. I know he was more like a dad to Buffy than me, but it still felt good. I'll miss him when we move. I'll have Spike, but… he's not really Dad material. Kinda more the black sheep uncle._

_ ._

_July 4, 2001_

_Independence Day. Yay. Not. Spike's going to drive me and Mom to some big fireworks thing, now that he's got his car all fixed up. He's even cleaned out the back seat and everything._

_ ._

_July 6, 2001_

_Spike came home barely able to walk and reeking like a distillery tonight. I think he's subconsciously trying to get himself killed. He gets totally drunk, then goes and picks fights with the nastiest demons he can find. And he won't wear the Gem of Amarra. Says it's useless, it didn't make him into the man he needed to be, and he'll never wear it again, never let himself think of himself as anything other than a monster._

_I keep asking him what will happen to me if he dies?_

_ ._

_July 7, 2001_

_I tried to talk him into putting the ring on again. This afternoon, when he woke up and was sober for once. He keeps it on a chain around his neck, with Buffy's wedding ring, but it doesn't work unless it's actually on his finger._

_He told me he never should have taken the ring, because it only led to trouble. That he was unworthy of it. Then he said he was thinking of giving it to Angel and the other vampire deserved it more. Would use it for good._

_I ran and got Buffy's diary and read him the part where she says she felt safer with Spike having it than she did with the idea Angel having it. That the idea of Angelus having possession of the Gem of Amarra scared her to her core, because he was far worse than Spike could ever be._

_He liked that. He stood taller afterwards and spent the rest of the day making fun of Angel. But he still won't put the ring on._

_ ._

_July 10, 2001_

_Spike asked me today if I would read him something else from Buffy's diary. Something good about him. So that must mean the wards Tara gave me worked. He can't get into the diaries himself. It's not so much that I think Buffy would care (and really, what does that matter anymore?)_

_But there's a lot of bad stuff about Spike in there. I don't want him to read it and get all guilty-feeling again. He's finally starting to act like living… or unliving, I guess… might be tolerable._

_I had to skip over a lot of nasty things… I'm not reading him the parts where Buffy talks about… you know. Ugh. Let me tell you, I am now fully educated in ways I shouldn't be._

_I remembered that he really perked up the other day after I read him what she said about the Gem of Amarra, so then I thought he'd like the parts she wrote about her ring. The one he gave her._

_I read her entry from the day she received her wedding ring in the mail. He held it tight in his hand as I read. And then I found the place where she wrote about how she sorta wanted to ask him if she could have it back after he saved Mom's life. He really liked that. His face is so… expressive. Makes it really hard to remember he was ever evil. I can see why Buffy went on and on about having a hard time remembering he was evil._

_ ._

_July 15, 2001_

_I almost staked Spike in the middle of the night. Remember how I've been sleeping with Buffy's stakes? Okay, so I have Mr. Gordo too. I'm not totally freaky. But I was having a horrible nightmare about vampires chasing me, and I came to with a start, stake gripped in my fist, to see yellow eyes hovering over me. I was inches away from staking him, until I realized it was just Spike. I think he would have let me do it, too._

_Of course, I still felt really uncomfortable. Waking up to see him like that… EEK! I understand he was using his 'night vision' or whatever to check on me, 'cause I was thrashing about… But it was super scary._

_I can almost understand now why Buffy never invited him in. What if he does turn evil again? What are we supposed to do?_

_He said almost the exact same thing to me. "Big sis was probably right to keep me out. It's no good trusting the devil"._

_ ._

_July 20, 2001_

_Mom and I got in a huge fight today. About the usual. I accused her of wishing I was dead instead of Buffy. I guess it's a really horrible thing to say. It always makes her look so sad._

_At the end of it, she said "It doesn't matter how you got here, you're still my little girl, Dawn". It was such a simple thing to say, but somehow, it made everything okay._

_And then she talked to me like I was her friend or a grownup, instead of just a stupid kid. How she'd known for three years Buffy was living on borrowed time, but it never got any easier. How she hated Giles and the Council for making her little girl the Slayer, but she was so proud of Buffy for stepping up to the plate and handling her responsibilities. That it was the worst thing in the world to lose a child, but at least Buffy's death had purpose and meaning._

_And then she said something that made me feel small and petty. That the last words either of them had spoken to each other were in anger. They were fighting over whether or not Mom would come help rescue me, and they hadn't really made up before… and she wishes she would have told Buffy she loved her one last time._

_We had a big, long cry after that. Spike came in the bedroom and joined us, all of us sobbing like babies. He feels just as guilty as we do. _

_I said it should have been me, since that's what I was created for, and Mom argued it should have been her, since she was old and had already dodged death twice. Then Spike said it should have been him, which made no sense at all, but we knew what he meant. All of us wish we could have done something different, so Buffy would still be alive, and it wouldn't have to hurt so much._

_ ._

_July 23, 2001_

_Sad. Depressed. Blue. Low. Miserable. Unhappy. Dejected. Despondent. Down-hearted. Tortured. Unhappy. Forlorn. Gloomy. Broody. Hopeless. Pessimistic. Distressed. Desperate. Shattered._

_I'm supposed to come up with a list of words to use other than sad. So I can describe how I'm feeling more accurately, since they all have different conno… connotions, or something. Connotations. There, I looked it up. I'm going with despondent. Mostly 'cause I've decided I really like that word._

_ ._

_July 31, 2001_

_Well that sucked ass. I'm not sure I trust Willow anymore. She's gotten really powerful, which was cool at first. But she's all different now. She's so sure what she thinks is right. And she thinks she's the boss now that Buffy's gone. Shouldn't Giles be? Or even Spike? Since he's the oldest and all._

_She came over to get some clothes of Buffy's for the Buffybot, to keep up appearances that the Slayer's still alive, and she threw a fit when she found out Spike was in Buffy's room. Where else did they think he was sleeping? In the basement? Which would actually make more sense, what with the potential of death-by-sunbeam going on in Buffy's room. 'Cause he won't wear the ring still._

_But anyhow. Not her business. She got all in Spike's face and started telling him he was a monster, how he ruined Buffy's life and finally killed her. I know all the things she kept hinting at. I've read Buffy's diary. But Spike didn't need to be reminded of it, he knows. He feels guilty enough about it (even if nothing else bothers him)._

_She kept saying over and over how she was going to kill him, because he was the reason her friend was dead. I finally couldn't take it anymore, and I told her she better kill me too, 'cause I was the real reason Buffy was dead. She tried to deny it, but it's true. If I had listened to Buffy, done what she told me, Glory would have never gotten her hands on me. Instead I had to charge in and try to be a hero too, and Glory just plucked me away from there like I was nothing more than… a key._

_Then Willow tried to say it was understandable, I'm just a kid and I shouldn't think that way, everybody makes mistakes, Glory was a god and probably would have started the ritual one way or another no matter what. _

_So if it was inevitable that Buffy would die no matter what I did, why is Spike's mistake any different? She didn't have an answer to that, but she tried to make it sound like she did._

_I told her to shut up about Spike. I mean, he doesn't even have a soul and look at all the good he's done. So he made one mistake that night. Maybe we would have all died if it hadn't been for him._

_He says not to get on her case. That Willow's just hurting. Like the rest of us. He's being magnanimous. I like that word. It was in a book on the summer reading list._

_Just because he's understanding, it still doesn't keep him from being all despondent again. How much you want to bet he'll come home covered in wounds and stinking like booze tonight?_


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for the reviews! Reviews make me want write my next story as an AU Spuffy as opposed to the original story I really should be writing! It's all up to you what I do next (yes, I am weak and could be easily persuaded by all my invisible internet friends).

* * *

_._

_Aug 4, 2001_

_Spike told me what happened with his mother today. He's gone back to drinking all the time, ever since Willow yelled at him. I'd like to put a spell on her! It makes him maudlin, and he tells me all kinds of stories._

_How awful for him, to carry all that guilt for over a century. He said that was when he realized he was nothing but pure evil and gave in to his nature. It must have been so hard for the part of him that was still William to come to grips with being a vampire. Who's ever heard of a vampire trying to save their mother? _

_When he had to kill the monster he'd created, he knew he'd never be able to do good again, so he went out of his way to embrace depravity._

_Until he realized he was in love with Buffy. That made him want to try give up evil._

_I wish… I don't know what I wish. Just that maybe, I don't know. What if he had a soul? Then Buffy would have let herself love him. I think those two would have been great for each other. It's too tragic._

_ ._

_Aug 8, 2001_

_The house is officially up for sale. We're going to LA this weekend to look at condos. Mom wants Spike to come with us. She keeps implying that he'll live with us too, but I don't know if he wants to. He doesn't always act like it._

_Spike helped paint the house so it would be ready. It was funny seeing him covered in paint splotches. Especially since I put most of them there. Hey, he started it! Mom looked like she was going to get mad when she saw the mess we'd made, but she relented when she saw how hard we were laughing. I think it's the first time any of us has done more than smile._

_What do you know, the grief counselor was right. Life does go on. We're recovering. Spike didn't even fuss too much when Mom said he had to take Buffy's posters down to paint._

_Her room looks so bare now. I don't like it._

_ ._

_Aug 13, 2001_

_Maybe we won't move to LA after all. Mom agreed when I told her it was too stinky and crowded and ugly. There's no reason to move to LA, really, it's not like Dad cares. So she's searching the internet for openings at art galleries all across California. And the whole US. Actually, Willow's doing the searching. I make Spike stay in Buffy's room when she comes over. He's only just quit drinking again. He said he doesn't care where we go as long as it's big enough to have a bar or two and demons to fight. Giles suggested San Francisco. That might be kinda cool._

_ ._

_Aug 15, 2001_

_Mom took me back-to-school shopping today. It was terrible. I don't want to go back to school. I begged her to let me homeschool. She said she'd think about it, but I know that means no._

_Spike could totally take care of most of it. He knows history and English and even French. And I could find a tutor for math and science. Maybe even Willow, if she changes her attitude._

_We saw the Buffybot on patrol again last night. It was horrible. Spike stood in the shadows and watched her for, like, ever, and his eyes were all empty and stuff._

_ ._

_Aug 20, 2001_

_It's been a little over three months now. I know Spike counts the days. I don't. What's the point? Gone is gone._

_I had my last session with the grief counselor. She said I was coping well. That made me mad. I don't want to be coping well! It sounds like, I don't know, I don't miss her. Maybe like I never loved her in the first place. Dr. Shandwar said that was normal and a healthy reaction._

_I hate her. Except she's kinda nice. I got all tear-y eyed at the end. Like the last day of school, when you suddenly feel like you're going to miss the teacher who was a jerk to you all year._

_I really don't want to go back to school. Mom is hoping the house will sell in the next month or two. What's the point in starting up if we're just going to leave? _

_Spike said he'd tutor me, but the decision was up to Mom. Which means no._

_ ._

_Aug 22, 2001_

_Mom's started applying to jobs. So far, she's looking at San Fran, a couple of small cities upstate, a place in Vermont, and Taos, NM. I like the idea of Taos. It looks really pretty there. Super-sunny, though, even more than here. Spike would have to start wearing the ring again, otherwise he'd be stuck inside almost all the time._

_ ._

_Aug 25, 2001_

_School starts Tuesday. Big whoop._

_ ._

_Aug 28, 2001_

_Yeah, it was as bad as I thought. I've barely even talked to Janice all summer, and she ditched me at lunch for some other kids. I don't care. We'll be leaving soon. Then I can just be the freaky new kid, instead of the freaky kid whose sister died. They don't even know how freaky I really am._

_ ._

_Sept 1, 2001_

_The gang's been coming around a lot more lately. I guess they can feel like being friendly now that we're leaving. They know they won't have to be nice for long. Mom said they're just learning to cope with their feelings too, and now they're ready to reach out and heal the rift._

_Whatever._

_ ._

_Sept 5, 2001_

_Mom got a job offer. In Sacramento. Spike said the Governor's a demon, so there'll be plenty to keep him occupied. We're going to go this weekend and check it out. I get to skip school on Friday. _

_Spike promised to wear the ring so he could go with us. I think he's starting to cope too. I'm changing his status from shattered to just plain sad. I'm glad he's with us._

_Mom is too. She says she knows William was a good man, and he just has to remember that. She treats him like he's part of the family, just another guy in our house (although I'm not sure if he's supposed to be her son or brother or…? I guess son, 'cause he's like my older – much older – brother). She says living as part of a human family will remind him of who he really is. She's mostly right, he's lost that leashed-evil vibe he had going on even after he fell in love with Buffy, but I wouldn't exactly call him a good role-model… I don't tell her how he pays for us to go to the movies. Or that he's been teaching me how to cheat at poker. Better to not destroy her innocence._

_ ._

_Sept 8, 2001_

_We're in Sacramento. I really like it. We even found the cutest house with a basement apartment. Just right for Spike. I thought he should just live with us, but when we were alone, Mom pointed out that he might want to get a girlfriend some day, and he should have the privacy to do so. I don't think he'll ever want a girlfriend… at least not for a long time. But maybe he might want a girl. For the night. Someday… he'll move on, right? It's kind of sad to think he never will, even if it is terribly romantic. I mean, look at Angel. He came to the funeral – well, after, really – with Cordelia… and it was pretty obvious he'd moved on, or at least come to grips with losing Buffy._

_So maybe she's right. 'Cause it would be really awkward if Spike brought somebody home._

_ ._

_Sept 10, 2001_

_Being back so totally reinforces that we need to move. When we walked in the house, it hit us all over again. Buffy's gone. Spike's back to drinking, and Mom's been…forlorn. I thought about cutting myself. Kids in books do it all the time. I tried it once, a few weeks ago, but it didn't help any. And Spike went ballistic._

_We need a fresh start._

_ ._

_Sept 11, 2001_

_All the apocalypses Buffy prevented… turns out humans are just as destructive as demons._

_ ._

_Sept 15, 2001_

_The world is still reeling. It makes me miss Buffy more. She stopped things like this from happening._

_ ._

_Sept 17, 2001_

_ It's funny how quickly things go back to normal when it's not your own tragedy…_

_ . _

_Sept 18, 2001_

_Spike read me the poem he's been working on. It's… I can't stop crying. He called it A Hundred and Twenty Days. I'm going to make him give it to me so I can copy it down. I tried writing my own poem, but the best I came up with was:_

_.  
_

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue_

_You'll never know_

_How much I miss you._

_ ._

_.  
_

_Yeah, sucks, I know._

_ ._

_Sept 19, 2001_

_Spike's poem:_

_.  
_

_A Hundred and Twenty Days_

_ . By William Harrison Pratt_

_.  
_

_A fleeting thing is Time_

_An idea with no meaning_

_But what we give it, lacking rhyme,_

_Lacking reason, silently being._

_ ._

_Days, hours, minutes, _

_I have counted them all_

_Dull and muted moments_

_Somehow low and small. _

_ ._

_A hundred and twenty days_

_Without your Light_

_Days lived in a dark haze_

_Fumbling through the night. _

_ ._

_So I count them out_

_A soldier on the march_

_Sounding my cadence loud_

_And strident, my tone arch, _

_ ._

_Hiding a pain sharp and deep_

_No other word for it but "Grief."_

_. _

_. _

_Now I'm crying all over again, just copying it down. Shit, I made the ink run._

_.  
_

_Sept 25, 2001_

_We got an offer on our house today. Well, we've had others, but Mom likes this one. It'll take a few days of counter-offers and stuff, before we know for sure. The house we like in Sacramento is still for sale, so that's good. Maybe we'll have a new house by Halloween!_

_Because seriously, who wants to spend Halloween in Sunnydale? Between Spike and the Buffybot, the demon population is being kept in check, but… it's getting worse. Hellmouth, no Slayer, equals bad. Since Faith is in jail, there's no Slayer to take Buffy's place. The Council is supposed to send some guys to help, but… Giles says they're bureaucratic fools who care more about red tape than the human population. _

_ ._

_Sept 30, 2001_

_Willow and them are getting really weird. They keep saying maybe we shouldn't leave, that maybe something will happen to change our mind. I have no idea what they think would change our mind, but I know one thing. On the Hellmouth? Whatever they think it's going to be, it can't be good. _

_ ._

_Oct 1, 2001_

_Mom says the contract should be signed and ready to go tomorrow or the next day. So she's flying out tomorrow morning to go look at that house in Sacramento one more time. If she still likes it, she'll put an offer in. She's already wrapping everything up at the gallery here. _

_It's really happening. _

_Giles is leaving too. Tomorrow. _

_I found a poem on my pillow tonight, I figure it's got to be Spike's. Another one. I guess that means he wants me to copy it down? _

_ ._

_Time Be Not Kind_

_ . By William Harrison Pratt_

_ ._

_ Time – be not kind – do not mend_

_ Allow me yet to grieve and rend._

_ Shattered heart should not heal_

_ Allow me yet the pain to feel._

_ Do not pass if thou lessens shame_

_ Allow me yet to shoulder blame._

_ Should not live nor love nor laugh_

_ If cast astray from other half._

_.  
_

_ Time – be not kind – do not march on_

_ Allow despair to last 'til earth is gone._

_ No passage quick of dreary days_

_ Allow suffering to linger in harrowing haze._

_ Scream that wells must never clear_

_ Allow all agony to loiter near._

_ Should not laugh nor love nor live_

_ Cannot, should not have her outlived._

_ ._

_ Time is not kind, days pass into nights_

_ Time drags the monster from dark to light._

_ Pain won't last, tears do dry_

_ Quicksilver grin then tortured sigh._

_ Together we've wept and mourned and bled_

_ Together we'll heal. Family, not dead._

_ Once more to laugh, to live, to love_

_ She lives on in mother, in dark-haired dove._

_ ._

_I understand how he feels. We're all slowly healing and moving on, and it doesn't always feel… wrong, anymore, even though I wish it did. I wish it would hurt just as bad forever, to make sure we never forget, even for a second, that she's gone. But we will. We do. And I guess it's okay, because we have each other, and she does live on in us._

_ ._

_Oct 2, 2001 _

_Mom just called to say she put an offer in on that house. Ahhh! It's all going to change, isn't it? I thought I wanted to move, and now I'm scared. What if it's worse?_

_ ._

_Oct 3, 2001_

_Never mind. No reason to go anywhere._

_ ._

_SHE'S ALIVE!_

.

.

.

* * *

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**A/N **When I first wrote this chapter a few months ago, I knew I wanted to have a poem of Spike's... but being poetically disinclined, I couldn't come up with anything. I headed over to Seasonal Spuffy to look for somebody who had submitted poetry, and, like a crazy person, asked for help. The lovely and talented Susan O'Donovan, also known as 'writero' on LJ, graciously agreed. She is the author of A Hundred and Twenty Days, so please head on over to her site and give her your praise for her awesome poem as well as checking out her other work. Writero DOT livejournal DOT com

The second poem, Time Be Not Kind, is what I came up with last week when it got closer to time to publish this chapter and I thought Sue might be too busy to help out. Luckily she found the time, YAY!

On a far more serious note, how does including the reminder of Sept 11th make you feel? On the one hand, I feel like it should be in there, because, you know. It's a major event that should never be ignored or forgotten. But on the other, it's not part of the story or the Buffyverse, and feels a little awkward, especially since I don't really want to focus on it.


	43. Chapter 43

**Author's Notes:**

Well, it's unanimous, 9/11 stays. I'm glad, and thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me.

Please head over to Sue's LJ page where she has posted the poem she wrote for me, and share your love with her! She deserves it! writero DOT livejournal DOT com/52290 DOT html

Anything of Joss's that you recognize belongs to him and all his affiliates.

I'm very glad you all liked our temporary guest speaker (Dawn). Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

* * *

He stood at the base of the stairs, looking up at her. Uncomprehending, amazed, overwhelmed. Stunned.

It was _her_.

It was _Buffy_.

His senses told him it was. Heartbeat strong and clear. He widened his nostrils imperceptibly. The smell of fear and pain and grave dirt was there, but under it, the scent of Buffy. He would know it anywhere. He inhaled more deeply. Nothing… _off_… about it.

Dawn's voice broke through. "Spike? Are you okay?"

"I'm… what did you do?" he asked harshly, his voice breaking. _How did this happen?_ he wanted to scream.

"Me? Nothing!" Dawn protested. He could hear she was telling the truth.

Spike let his eyes roam over her. _Oh God. Thank you. Buffy_. She looked okay. Except – "Her hands".

"I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that".

His own were clenched in sympathy. "I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin. That's how". He tipped his head, tried to catch Buffy's eye. "Isn't that right?"

She looked down at her hands, surprised, confused. His heart ached for her. "I… Yes. I had to do that". He hadn't heard her voice in… so long. Too long.

"Done it myself," he told her. _See? We have this in common. I understand._

He found himself staring again… fervently thanking the powers that he hadn't dusted himself after all. That he was here for this miracle. To be able to see her just one more time.

And then he remembered she was hurt. Didn't need him gawping at her like a useless schoolboy. "We'll take care of you. C'mere, luv". She did. She came down the stairs to him, slowly, hesitantly, and he took her hand, caressing it ever so gently with his thumb as he led her into the living room.

"Get me some stuff, mercurochrome, bandages," he said to Dawn.

Spike sat on the couch, next to Buffy. He repeated the thought to himself, over and over: _I am sitting next to Buffy on the couch_. It was the most beautiful thought he'd ever had. He reached out for her other hand, his own trembling. She looked up at him with confused, wounded eyes.

"How long was I gone?" Her voice was still shaky, unsure.

He knew exactly how long. Almost to the second. But he couldn't get it out. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Hundred forty-seven days yesterday. One-forty-eight today. Except today doesn't count, does it?"

She nodded, trying to take it in. He had to hold himself back. Be gentle. Be calm. It was making him tremble harder. All he wanted to do was crush her to him, never ever let her go again. Couldn't frighten her though. She looked spooked enough.

"How long was it for you… where you were?"

She seemed to be thinking about it. Couldn't come up with a proper answer. "Longer".

_I'm sorry!_ he screamed inside his head. _Sorry I buggered it up! Sorry you had to die because of me! I'll never let you down again, I swear!_

Instead he sat silently, quietly holding her hands gently, taking in every last detail.

Dawn reappeared, bringing the supplies, but just as she was setting them down the front door burst open, the sodding Scoobies blowing in, loud, chaotic, discordant.

"Is she here?"

"She's here!"

"Buffy!"

"Are you okay now?"

Too much noise, too much emotion. Buffy buried her head into him and he wrapped his body around her, trying to shelter her.

The others gathered closer, not perceiving her distress, and Buffy buried even deeper into Spike, quaking violently, whimpering.

He growled at them, long and low and deep. _Back off_.

They did, startled.

He continued to growl, and Dawn glared at them. "You knew? She was back? How did you know?"

Obvious, wasn't it? Look at them, puffed up popinjays, all proud of the foolish thing they'd done. It was a sodding miracle he wasn't tearing their throats out. To bring her back like this, leave her to claw her way out of the grave, and then jump all over her like puppies eager to greet their master.

The Little Bit cottoned on. "You did this! What did you do?"

"A spell. We did a spell," Willow said. Proud. Defiant. And a little bit afraid. "Is she okay? In pain?"

"It's bloody obvious she's not okay, isn't it?" he snapped.

But Buffy poked her head out over his shoulder. "I'm okay". She was breathing more slowly, the trembling barely perceptible now. Only he would notice. "I'm going to be fine. I remember… I was… You brought me back".

She pulled away from Spike and he searched her face. She nodded slightly and he stood up, went outside for a smoke. She could handle her reunion with her friends.

Under the tree, he lit the fag, and then the tears began to fall. He couldn't stop them. He was being given a second chance. Or, well, third, fourth, tenth chance, however you wanted to look at it. Any which way, he knew what he had to do to make sure he did it right this time.

* * *

_Too much too much toomuchtoomuchtoomuch_ ran through her mind, the refrain keeping tempo with the pounding of the blood in her ears. The agony was _toomuch_; she returned to numbness.

She wasn't yet convinced this wasn't hell. This harsh, loud, bright place, where everyone was over-cheerful.

She did the best she could, tried to give them what they needed but then…

"Tired. Need to go to bed".

There was meaningless chatter, and then they were gone. Dawn looked at her, worried.

"Do you think I should try to call Mom? Or just… let her find out when she comes home tomorrow?"

Buffy shrugged. It wasn't that she didn't care, but… it was _toomuch_. Dawn fidgeted more. "Tell me what I can do, Buffy".

"I think I'm just going to go…" She paused, realizing she didn't know where. Apparently Spike had been sleeping in her bed. In her room. Her home. The place she had been so determined to keep him out of before… now she couldn't remember why it mattered.

She couldn't just kick him out of what was now his bed. She wondered if it mattered anymore if she slept in his arms. What would it mean? Would he think it meant something?

"I guess I can sleep in Mom's bed tonight…" she trailed off miserably.

"No need. I'll clear out". Spike had slipped back in. His face looked young, boyish, vulnerable. She could see where he'd tried to rub away the tears.

That set off a tiny spark of feeling inside her. "No!" She found she couldn't bear the thought of him leaving.

The three of them stared at each other for the longest time, not sure of what came next.

"I guess this is what they call dead silence, huh?" Dawn tried. Nobody laughed.

"Niblet, why don't you go put some fresh sheets on Buffy's bed, yeah? I'll finish her hands".

Buffy hid her hands in her armpits again, unaccountably ashamed. As if she'd done something wrong.

Spike put his fingers on her shoulders and rubbed them softly, then slowly slipped his hands down her arms, pulling her hands out so he could see them. "Pet," he said tenderly, and the adoration and sympathy in his eyes was almost enough to break through the pain. So much emotion there. Enough for the both of them.

She looked away. Better to stay numb, not feel anything at all. He bandaged her hands so gently she could barely feel it, then kissed her fingertips and laid them back down in her lap.

"Hungry? I could fix you something". Her eyes were drawn back to his. So blue. So intense. She stared into them. He was patient, waiting on her cue.

She didn't know what she wanted. Nothing really, except not to be here, but that didn't seem to be an option. She continued to stare.

She heard Dawn enter, say, "The bed's ready," so quiet and unlike her. She turned to look at her sister. She'd felt – something – such a strong flash of love earlier. On top of the tower. It was still there, but muted now. Like something she might have once felt. Easier that way. No pain. No joy.

Just numb.

She forced herself to smile. It wasn't Dawn's fault.

When she resumed staring at her hands, Spike went to Dawn and took her into the hallway, speaking quietly. She was… grateful. He'd stayed. Taken care of her sister. Not dusted himself.

"Thanks," she said when he came back. He tipped his head questioningly. "You kept your promise. To take care of Dawn".

His face grew stormy. "No, I didn't". His voice cracked with the intensity of his anguish. "I failed you. Broke my promise within minutes. You wouldn't have had to…" he swallowed repeatedly, unable to go on.

Shrugging apathetically, she said, "Seems to have worked out after all. I'm here now. The world's still here too". Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears, and she could tell he heard it too.

He knelt in front of her. Her humble slave. "I know you must be… overwhelmed. Tell me what I can do".

_Let me go back_.

She didn't say anything. Eventually Spike stood and scooped her up, carrying her up the stairs and to her bed. Without a word, he rummaged in a box in the closet, pulling out a pair of fuzzy pajamas. When she stared blankly at them, he approached her with tentative, hesitant hands.

"S'not… I'm just… taking care of you, pet," he said apologetically. "Say the word and I'll go". She didn't, and he continued, pulling off her shirt and replacing it with the fuzzy top, then tugging her to stand so he could do the same with her pants. A poseable doll without desires of her own. She watched him mutely the entire time. When he was done, he pulled back the blankets, slid her under them.

She noticed the differences in her room for the first time. It wasn't really hers anymore. "My things are boxed up".

"Um… I suppose… We were gonna… but we'll put it all back the way you like it, alright? Tomorrow. First thing".

He shut off the light and turned to leave. Panic swelled in her chest. Too dark. Too alone. Like a coffin. "_Don't!_" she gasped. He turned around quickly, rushing to her. "Don't leave," she said, trembling once more.

"Okay, Buffy. I won't. I'll just…" He looked around. "Sit right here, yeah?" He slid to the floor, next to her door.

"No… I need…." She couldn't enunciate what she needed, but he must have read it in her eyes.

"Can I… can I hold you, Buffy? Least 'til you fall asleep?"

She nodded. "Stay. Don't go".

"I won't. I'm just gonna…" He fumbled in the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats, then turned his back to her and changed quickly, finally sliding into bed with her. When he drew her into his arms, she sighed deeply, even though he held her stiffly, as if he was afraid she would change her mind at any moment.

It wasn't okay, nothing was okay, but in his embrace, it was… tolerable. Almost.

"Was it very bad?" he said as she moved into him.

When? In the coffin? Or before? Her friends thought she'd been in hell. Thought they'd done a good thing. It was the only thing that kept her from hating them.

Almost.

They wouldn't be able to bear it if they knew.

She found she hated them after all. Because keeping them from the pain of the truth about what they'd done mattered more than her own pain.

But what about Spike? He could know. He would understand. He knew what it was like to wake in a coffin, alone, dark, afraid.

Different.

"I was done," she said simply. "No more… anything. And it was… good. I was safe. Happy. At rest". A laugh bubbled out of her, hysterical. "_At rest_".

He went limp against her and she could feel his tears on her head. "I'm so sorry pet…" He held her tighter. "If I'd known what they were doing…"

"Aren't you happy I'm here?" she asked, slightly curious.

"Oh, Buffy, sweetheart, I… it's a bloody miracle. But not… not like this. Not…" He cried harder. His voice was muffled by her hair. "I dream, every night. Every night that I don't run off. I stay with you. And… You were right. 'M not trustworthy. Not good enough for you. Had no way to let you know how much I regretted…"

The depth of his suffering reached her. She wanted to give him the words she couldn't that night. "I loved you, Spike. I should have told you then, I don't know why I couldn't. I didn't think badly of you. I saw you. Fighting. For me. I loved you". Her own tears began in response to his.

They held each other tightly, crying together, until they were worn out and asleep, drained.

* * *

Spike woke suddenly. It was less that a second before he knew why. The Slayer shook violently, moaning from the grip of the nightmare. Her hands clawed at the air.

Digging her way out.

He shushed her, kissing her brow and telling her she was safe. The trembling subsided and she relaxed once more, pliant in his arms.

He repeated his actions each time it happened again.

* * *

"'Morning, luv".

This felt familiar. Warm. Safe.

When had she felt this last, the safety of his arms? When they'd first evolved from mortal enemies to… whatever they were, one of the first things she'd realized was that she slept best in his arms. And yet, how often had she woken there since? _Not once_, she thought to herself. She'd not once woken in his arms since New York. She suspected the thought would have left her feeling melancholy if she could have felt much of anything at all.

"You want brekkie? 'Ve gotten good at waffles. Bite-sized likes 'em".

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "But we don't have a waffle iron…" She trailed off, seeing the bare walls of her room again. "I guess things changed".

He was uncomfortable. "Some. It's been… awhile".

Buffy looked at his face. It was unchanging. Eternal youth and beauty. But he seemed different. Graver somehow. Like her. She was _grave-er_, ha ha_._ She wanted to cry. Or laugh. There didn't seem to be much difference.

Spike was still looking at her, so she said, "The whole coming back from the dead thing? Disconcerting. In some ways it feels like just the next day. Feels like nothing should have changed. But it was…" _Forever._ "A lifetime ago. Literally". The hysterical laughter bubbled up again. "Life's a bitch and then you don't even get to stay dead".

Those eyes. They understood _toomuch_. She closed her own. "What I said last night? Don't tell the others. They can't ever know. They thought I was in hell".

"Bloody fools. Like you would be sent there".

"No, I can see… it was a mystical portal. To a hell dimension. Like the one I sent Angel through. So… makes sense". She shrugged, eyes still shut against it all. "They had good intentions".

"Think there's a road somewhere paved with those".

She had to look at him then. How was it everything she'd ever needed could be found in the eyes of a soulless vampire?

She'd pushed him away for so long. In that other lifetime. Did she need to now? He'd changed, made amends. Was it enough for this Buffy, the one that was a reanimated corpse, just like him? She didn't know.

They lay together, looking at each other, not saying a word.

Buffy reached up and touched the chain he was wearing, running her fingers down to where the two rings lay against his cool collarbone. The Gem of Amarra and her wedding ring. So that's where it was. He held still under her touch, not even breathing. She left her hand there, resting over the rings, and he eventually relaxed again.

"So what else has changed?" she ventured after a while.

"Watcher left. Day before. Guess he gets the surprise over the phone". He was working up to saying something. "And, uh, we were gonna too. Move to Sacramento. Mum should be back today from house-hunting".

"Dawn said, but I didn't process".

"Probably won't go now. Or? Did you want to?"

"I don't know what I want. Wanting things is… too hard right now".

Spike stroked her hair, soothing her. "No worries, luv. We'll sort it out".

They could hear the sounds of Dawn getting up. "I'll go start the waffles," he said, slipping out of bed. Buffy felt bereft without him. Cold.

Dawn poked her head in. "Can I come in?"

She nodded from her spot on the pillow. "So Spike's gone all Mr. Mom?"

Dawn giggled as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Little bit. He's… it's given him something. He, uh… didn't want to stick around at first".

That made the hurt worse. Thinking of Spike not here.

"But living with us all summer, he got better, you know? And – I think it was good for him. Not just in a keeping him from dusting himself way, but… he's changed a lot. He's all responsible and helpful and part of the family. About as un-evil as a vampire can get". Buffy smiled faintly to herself, pleased in a numb sort of way to hear the teenager's description of the new-and-improved Spike. He'd more than stood by his promise, if her little sister wasn't exaggerating.

Dawn broke her out of her reverie. "How much you wanna bet Mom's going to totally wig? We've got to figure out how to break it to her".

"Is she… healthy?"

"Yeah, pretty much. She's more cautious than she used to be. Takes it easy a lot. But she's Mom".

Buffy sat up and smiled. "I can't wait to see her".

The sound of a bang followed by violent cursing reached their ears, and they looked at each other, wide-eyed, then burst out giggling. "That's pretty much standard procedure around here".

"And Mom doesn't freak?"

"She's really got a soft spot for him. You have to be dead to get special -". Dawn broke off, mortified.

"Like me. I _was_ dead and now I'm not," Buffy burst out harshly, more than a hint of anger coloring her voice. The sudden anger passed and she frowned, nose scrunched in confusion. She stared at her sister, puzzled, who looked back in abject misery.

Buffy reached out and pulled Dawn to her. "Do you think recently back from the dead will qualify?" she said far more lightly, trying to ignore her previous outburst.

Dawn pulled away and looked at Buffy's face. When Buffy smiled at her, she smiled back. "Maybe. You never know with Mom". She picked at the polish on her nails. "I've been sleeping with Mr. Gordo. You want him back?"

"Nah. You can keep him".

"I don't really need him now. Since you're here".

"Whatever". Buffy had run out of emotions. She sat quietly, and Dawn sat with her, staring at her. Eventually Buffy asked, "So, what's up with the staring, creepy?"

Dawn blushed. "I just… I haven't seen you in a long time. I… uh… just wanna look at you. Is that weird?"

Buffy considered that. "Probably not. I mean, Spike spent hours staring at me last night, and we both know that he is in no way weird".

Dawn giggled. "Right. Staring – weird. Got it. No more".

* * *

**A/N** I know I promised S6 Buffy would be different, but give the poor girl a chance, she just got sucked out of Heaven... I bet it would take you more than a day to readjust too!


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Notes:**

We're going to start going off-canon again now. Sometimes when I read your predictions, I get worried because my mind took things in a totally different way than anybody else's. Does that mean I'm strange?

I started that AU/AR and posted the first few chappies over on my LJ account. If you could spare a moment to R&R and let me know if it's worth pursuing, I would be eternally grateful (I don't want to post anything here until it's pretty much finished).

Go to spuffy-luvr DOT livejournal DOT com/2860 DOT html#cutid1

* * *

"Good heavens, what happened? It looks like the apocalypse out there!" The voice rang out through the house, sending the occupants scrambling. Dawn warned Buffy to stay in the kitchen with a stern finger pointing.

"Mom! So glad you're back!" Dawn said cheerfully, and Buffy could hear her guiding their mom to the living room. "Come sit down, take a break, you must be exhausted!" She longed to run after them and throw herself into her mom's arms, but they'd agreed to break it to the older woman gently. Buffy sat on the edge of her seat, poised to run.

Spike squatted in front of her. "Just a mo', alright? Let us do this slowly". She nodded tersely and he left.

In the other room, her mom was not being fooled. "Okay, young lady, what is going on? And why aren't you in school?"

Spike's voice rumbled through the house. "Hallo, Joyce. Been a bit crazy 'round here in your absence. Come sit, I'll fill you in".

Buffy was too on edge to listen any longer. She stood up and paced, suddenly angry again. Why couldn't she do what she wanted? She was the one who'd been dead. She should be the one being mollycoddled.

Her anger fell away as soon as she saw her mom enter the kitchen. "Mommy!" she cried out, and flung herself into her mother's arms.

"Buffy?" Joyce said hoarsely. "Really?"

She nodded against her neck. "Really. Crazy, isn't it?" The two of them were crying, sobbing together.

"Oh, my baby. I can't believe it! You're…" She leaned back and looked into her daughter's face. "I love you. I didn't get a chance to say it before, and… I love you so much!"

"I love you too, Mom. I missed you". Joyce's tears, which had begun to dry up, began in earnest once more.

When they'd subsided, they sat at the table, Dawn and Spike joining them.

"This is… you'd think nothing would surprise me anymore, after living in Sunnydale so long," Joyce said, smiling as she wiped her face.

"T'was a bit of a shock to all of us. Not least of all Buffy," Spike gave her a wry half-smile. She returned it.

Joyce's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh! But the house! And the other… what are we going to do?" She took Buffy's hand. "What do you want to do?"

"Everybody keeps asking me that," Buffy muttered. "How am I supposed to decide? I'm too busy trying to get used to being alive all over again".

Her mother was apologetic. "Of course dear. It's fine. We'll just… I'm sure we can work it out later. Tomorrow morning, maybe".

Buffy didn't answer.

* * *

She woke to the sound of voices. She'd faded after breakfast and the reunion with her mom, falling more and more silent until the others had sent her to bed.

"Sleep. You need your rest after… that," her mom had finished lamely.

"Yeah. 'Cause being dead was such hard work. You'd think I'd feel plenty rested," Buffy had tried half-heartedly, but Spike had pinned her with a look.

"Bit traumatic, luv. Especially with all the chaos last night. Come on". And he'd taken her hand and led her back to bed. "You want me to stay?"

Yes. But she hadn't wanted to be needy either. She'd shrugged. He'd climbed into bed with her, making her feel safe once more.

Spike must have gotten up at some point, because now he wasn't here. She looked at the clock. It was early afternoon. The voices below resolved into those of Tara and Willow. She looked out her window to see them standing in front. Spike must have been on the porch, in the shadows, because she could only hear him.

"That's the thing about magic, Red. There are _always_ consequences," he was growling.

Tara twisted her hands nervously, but Willow was defiant. "We saved her from _hell_, Spike". Buffy held her breath, but he didn't contradict her. "Besides, I'd think you of all people would be glad of what I've done".

"If you thought that, you would have told me. But you didn't. Because you _knew_. Knew she might come back wrong. Knew you might have to… Ah, sod this. Try to talk some sense into her, Glinda. Before this power trip she's on bites her – and the rest of us – in the arse".

Tara was staring at Willow, obviously not disagreeing with him, but the redhead wasn't paying any attention. "You know Spike, I think maybe it's time for you to leave. Buffy's here to protect Dawn now. You're not needed anymore".

"Not your place to decide, _witch_".

Buffy could feel the tension escalating even from where she stood. "We're her _real_ friends Spike. You're just convenient".

"Really". The sarcasm rolled off of him. "Real friends might know a bit more about her. What happened to her".

She flew down the stairs as she heard Willow's reply. "You know, I told you I'd hex you if you…" When she wrenched open the front door Willow was fairly crackling with power, dark intent obvious in her eyes, while Tara hung on her arm, trying to turn her away. Buffy inserted herself between the two combatants.

"You touch Spike, I'll _kill_ you," she hissed, white hot fury blinding her to anything but the witch in front of her. "You _bitch_. Playing with my life like it's just another toy. _Do you know what you've done?"_

Willow paled and backed away as Buffy advanced, intent on damaging the woman in front of her. "Buffy, I'm sorry, I… It's okay, I didn't mean it".

But Buffy didn't back down. She could hear Tara stuttering something out, feel Spike's grip on her arm. She shook him off. "You'd do better to -". She was cut off as Spike spun her around. "_What_?" she growled at him.

"Sweetheart. I'm okay. It's all okay. Relax," he said.

The fury whipped itself even higher for a moment, and then burnt out, leaving nothing in its place. She slumped limply and Spike caught her before she hit the ground.

* * *

"_She hates me_," Willow whispered brokenly.

Spike eyed her. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he wasn't going to be too fussed about anything that took the witch down a peg or two. She was getting downright dangerous.

Tara was trying to get something out. "H-her aura. It's… it changed. To p-pure b-b-black. That's not…"

"S'not right, I'm guessing," Spike said, tenderly holding the unconscious Slayer in his arms. He'd sensed something off about her, but it was gone now. "So, what? She come back wrong after all?"

Tara shook her head. "N-no… it's fading away, so... She was… really angry".

Spike couldn't help but snort. 'Really angry' didn't even begin to describe it. He'd been awed at first, thinking she cared for him so deeply, but it had been something else entirely. Some level of rage that she couldn't control. Something that felt…_ demonic_.

"Wouldn't take it too personally, Red," he said. "She's been through a hell of a time. Don't think she was quite herself".

The shaken witch seemed buoyed by that. "Right. With the… being in hell. Naturally". Spike pressed his lips together, forcing his tongue still. He'd promised.

Buffy began to stir in his arms. "Let's take her in," he said, tacitly inviting the others inside. Her eyes sprang open as he sat on the couch, holding her to his chest.

Lifting her head, she said, "What just happened?"

"You… you don't remember?" Willow asked hopefully.

Buffy pulled away from Spike, sitting next to him so she could look at her friend. "You… were arguing with Spike. Threatening him," she said blackly, and the others inhaled, waiting to see if she became angry again. She didn't. "And then… I don't really remember. I think I got mad," she shrugged, seemingly uncaring once more.

"Little bit," Willow said. "But not a big deal. You kinda fainted. Probably from all the… excitement… from the past day. Lot to handle".

Buffy frowned slightly. "Yeah, I guess". She was quiet now, and Spike wasn't sure that he liked Buffy this way any better. She'd been through too much, his girl, and she wasn't okay.

He'd planned on… taking care of things. Soon. But there was no way he could leave her, not like this.

* * *

"You know, it's eerie how quickly this town cleans up after a disaster," Dawn said, carrying in groceries. "You wouldn't know Hellions had been tearing the place up less than 24 hours ago". She cast her eyes to the movie the others were watching. "Aw, come on, not ice skating movies! We didn't miss her that much!" she teased, winking at Buffy.

Buffy smiled faintly, and Dawn came over. "We stocked up on all your favorites – you want ice cream or cookies?" Buffy shrugged, dampening Dawn's obvious good mood. The Slayer forced herself to fake enthusiasm for her sister's sake. She was obviously trying hard to please her.

"You get any Chunky Monkey?"

Dawn smiled once more and brought her a carton and a spoon. "You'll have to fight her for it," she told the others. "We only got one".

Tara and Willow smiled indulgently. "Nah, we're good. We had some just last week," Willow said glibly. "Buffy, not so recently".

Buffy closed her eyes, trying to press back the anger that was threatening to overtake her. What was the matter with her?

_You knew she might come back wrong._

Was Spike right? Was something wrong with her? She pushed down the worry and the fear, along with the anger. _Stay numb_. Much safer. Much less painful.

Staying numb meant not caring much when Dawn and her mom joined her on the couch, snuggling on either side of her. She'd once enjoyed this tremendously. Now…

She ate the ice cream mechanically, faking delight in it and the movie, the company of her loved ones. The feeling of apathy was dragging her down into exhaustion again.

When Xander burst through the front door with Anya, both of them chattering excitedly, her entire body tensed. She wanted to run away, hide in her room, the door shut, Spike protecting her from the _toomuch_ world.

The vampire was out though, on business. Whatever the hell that meant.

Xander and Anya settled themselves on the floor, falling relatively silent to watch the end of the movie with them. When it was over, Xander said, "So, Buff, how's the land of the living treating you?"

"Great!" she said. "All… living… and stuff". She couldn't find it in herself to come up with something clever.

Anya poked Xander in the ribs and he held out a small box. "We got you a present," he explained.

"A welcome back to not being dead gift!" Anya added perkily.

Buffy took it and opened it quietly, then smiled, trying to show gratitude. "Thanks! A cell phone!"

"Yuh-huh, we all have one now. Just like we promised. Next thing on the list is robot doubles for all," Dawn said.

"And all our phone numbers are already programmed in, so you don't have to memorize them. Now, if you have a problem slaying, all you have to do is flip open your phone and call!" Xander told her.

"And we'll come running!" Willow added.

Of course. Because…

"All that matters is I keep slaying," Buffy spat, her voice rising as the black rage overtook her. "That's why you wanted me back, isn't it?" she yelled. "To protect you? _Save_ you, because you're too weak and pathetic to save yourselves? Tell me, is that why you dragged me back to this hell?" She was screaming now, her voice echoing off the walls, the others staring at her wide-eyed.

Xander reached out to touch her arm. She back-handed him, sending him flying across the room, where he crumpled to the ground. "Don't touch me, you_ pathetic worms_," she hissed.

"Buffy!" her mother said sternly, but she ignored her, pushing her roughly back onto the couch without even a glance.

"Do something!" Dawn cried in the background. Willow and Tara joined hands, beginning to chant, but Buffy whirled on them.

"_Don't_. I warned you. No more magic!" They fell silent, watching her apprehensively. Buffy stood there, panting with the force of her emotion, her entire body strung out, glaring at the witches with a murderous rage.

And then it passed. She put her hand to her forehead. "I'm not… Where? Xander?" she said helplessly.

"I think … Buffy…" her mom tried. "Let's get you… up to bed".

"No!" She shook her head wildly. "I…" She turned to Willow, panicking. "What did you do to me?"

"I… I don't know Buffy. But we'll figure it out, okay? We'll fix it!"

Buffy stared at her uncomprehendingly, then slumped back onto the couch. "I came back wrong, didn't I?"

* * *

Spike felt as though he were being torn in two, hearing the agony in the Slayer's question, hidden beneath the exhaustion and fear. His earlier desire to rip Willow's throat out returned in full. He'd walked in in time to hear her tirade, see Buffy deflate and slump on the couch.

He'd gone out to make a call to the Watcher, not wanting Buffy to overhear his concerns, but she'd figured it out anyway.

Giles had already heard about Buffy's resurrection, Willow bursting with pride at the news, but he hadn't been in a rush to return to Sunnyhell until Spike had called him. "Get your bloody arse on the first plane here," he'd said. "Girl needs help, and it's not going to wait on you sorting your affairs out. Willow buggered things up". And Giles had promised. Spike didn't think he could get here too soon.

He shook his head at the frozen tableau. Nobody was moving, all of them afraid to answer Buffy's question.

"You didn't come back wrong, luv," he told Buffy, walking quickly to her and taking her hand. "S'only your emotions getting settled. Not surprising after all you've been through".

He shot the others a look, warning them not to upset Buffy further, and they played along, adding their agreement to his statement.

"I get so _angry_," she whispered to him as he drew her close, her voice fearful. "I don't know why".

"Have every right to be, don't you?" he reminded her quietly, his need to comfort her causing all else to fade away until there was nothing in the room but the two of them and this moment.

"But I can't control it," she whimpered.

"Give it time," Spike lied. He was fairly certain it was only going to get worse. "You want to go take it out on some nasties?" He didn't know if more violence would work it out of her system, or bring forth the demon he was sure he'd felt inside of her. But they had to try something. She nodded. "Go get dressed for it," he said.

When she went upstairs, he turned to the others. "You'd better figure out how to fix this," he snarled, and then went outside to wait for her on the front porch step, head held in his hands as he cried silently, aching with the fear that he was going to lose her all over again.

He could feel Dawn's approach. "What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"I don't know Little Bit. Resurrection – not something to mess with," he said, wiping his eyes. "We'll work it out, though, don't you worry".

"I think I'm well past not worrying," she replied ruefully. He nodded in acknowledgement. "Spike. Put the ring on. Okay? In case… she decides to take it out on you". He was going to argue, but her scared, pleading eyes convinced him otherwise.

Taking the chain off his neck, he answered, "Good idea, sweet thing. Got to make sure I make it back to my Niblet, yeah?" He pulled her into a one-armed hug and she pressed into him, seeking comfort.

"You promised. 'Til the end of the world".

"So I did. So I did".

* * *

He might have made the wrong call. With every kill she was becoming more brutal, more bloodthirsty. "Let's call it a night, shall we pet? Think we got them all," he said to the gore-covered creature next to him. She grunted and hurled her axe at a tree.

"No. This is good. What I was meant to do. Slayer. _Killer_".

He took a breath. "Pretty sure you've killed the hell out of everything in Sunnydale already, luv. Time to go get some rest. Calm down a bit".

"I don't feel like calming down right now," she grunted, then a sly look passed over her face. Her body shifted, beckoning to him. "Can do other things to get this energy out".

Christ. The temptation. She licked her lips and he forced himself backwards, away from her. "Let's get you home to your mum, luv, she's probably missing you. And bed. Definitely need to go to bed". He was losing his cool, babbling as he backed away.

She cocked her head and her eyes grew lidded. "Anxious for bed are we?" She began to stalk towards him, and his chest heaved, panic making him pant. _She wouldn't really want this_, he told himself. _Can't let her do this_. Hardest bloody order of his life.

"Don't need to wait. You could fuck me right here. I know you want to, vampire. Want you to do it too. Want you so bad, my pussy's dripping and aching for you. Hasn't had any cock since yours. You could spread me open, make me yours again".

He'd forgotten to keep moving and she was flush against him now, trying to press him down to the ground with a hand on his shoulder. Bloody hell. This was retribution for all his sins. And if he let her… the list of trespasses would only get longer, his damnation more certain.

He had to get through to Buffy.

Spike stood firm, took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes, letting the strength of his love show through. "Buffy. Sweetheart. This is not really what you want. Let it go".

The intensity of his emotion must have reached her, because she blinked and seemed to come back to herself with a shudder. "Oh, God, Spike! I can't… Make it stop!"

"We will. I promise," he said fiercely. "Whatever it takes".

Even if it meant sending her back to Heaven.


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Notes:**

You guys are totally awesome!

Most of you have figured out what's going on, I just can't fool you! These guys haven't seen S7 yet, so they're not as quick on the uptake.

I don't know why Buffy resurrected differently than in canon, but my guess is that Willow was so distraught by Spike sleeping in Buffy's bed that it messed up her preparation somehow. But I don't really know (it's not like it's _my _story or anything).

For those of you who went over to LJ and couldn't comment, I figured out how to fix that, so please come back!

* * *

Buffy shuffled into the house and up the stairs, peeling her ruined clothes off and standing under the hot water Spike had started for her. Something was wrong. So wrong. And she couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the rage, the need for violence. Was this what it was like for Spike? If he was able to control this feeling, then he was even stronger than she'd ever realized. He was amazing.

She flushed, thinking of what else he'd controlled. Mortified, she began to cry, tears mixing with the spray from the shower.

What had Willow turned her into?

* * *

Joyce opened her bedroom door as Spike crept down the hallway. "Oh. You're awake," he said foolishly.

"I am. I… I know this is the least of our concerns, but I was wondering what you thought… about the house situation?"

"Go to Sacramento," he said, absolutely positive that would be the right decision. "Buffy needs to get the hell away from here," he added firmly.

_And if things go the way I'm afraid they're going to… won't be any reason to stick around._

He couldn't tell her that. No need to say it before it was inevitable.

Joyce stared inscrutably at him. Finally, she said, "What's wrong with Buffy?"

"Dunno yet, Mum. Don't worry, though, we'll get it sorted. The Scoobies always pull through".

Her face twisted in anger. "As happy as I am to have my daughter back, I don't think I want _them_ anywhere near her right now".

He couldn't disagree.

The shower turned off and he went to the bedroom, waited. He didn't know how long he'd have with her before the demon came back, but he wasn't giving a single minute up. She came in, damp and fresh-smelling, nothing but a towel around her. He swallowed and stilled his shaking hands.

Buffy walked to the bed and sat next to him, quiet, an air of acceptance about her as she looked down at her lap. "I wanted to thank you," she said slowly. "For not letting me… I can't imagine how hard that was for you".

He tried to play it off. "S'nothing, luv".

She turned and looked at him. "No, it's not. We both know it, don't lie. If nothing else, at least I'm learning how strong you really are. How much you've changed". She leaned against his shoulder and he put his arm around her, the feel of her slight body molding to his cold one soothing his frayed nerves.

"I'm not going to ignore what's happening to me, either. It's getting worse and… I think I might disappear completely the next time it happens. I can't fight it". He shivered at her words, knowing he couldn't lie to her anymore. She'd figured it out on her own. "I'm turning into a demon, aren't I, Spike?"

"Think so, Buffy. Don't know why, or if we can stop it. But, yeah. It's taking you over".

"Promise me… if it can't be fixed… You'll be the one to do it". He knew what she meant. "Don't leave me like that".

"I won't," he whispered, the useless tears that were always so close these days slipping down his face once more. "I promise".

She moved so she was in his lap, holding him as tightly as he held her. "I'm afraid, Spike".

"I know, luv".

"Can you… will you make love to me?" she asked with quiet desperation. He grasped her chin, tipping her face so he could examine it, sure he'd heard her wrong.

"The demon… it didn't lie. I do… want you. But on my terms, not its. I want you to make love to me before I… go".

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want this. I love you. God knows I've tried not to. But I do. It's the one good emotion I seem to be able to feel since... And you – you're always here for me, aren't you? Always. It's everything… to me and… this may be our last chance. Or, our only one, really, since we've never actually… not by choice," she said with a sad smile. "I'm not going to let it slip away".

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his chain, the one with her wedding ring on it, and slid the slim band into hand. Closing his eyes to regain control of himself, he held it tightly for a moment, then opened them again, holding the ring up questioningly so she could see.

"Yes, Spike. Of course yes," she breathed, and once again the ring was on her finger, of her own free will. If he were mortal, he surely would have died from the depth of emotion he felt.

He wished he could freeze time at this moment forever. Where she wanted him, needed him, loved him. No holding back.

And she truly meant it.

The tears still falling freely, he laid her tenderly on the bed then stood, removing his clothing with shaky hands while she watched him with solemn eyes. Divested of his garments, he lay beside her, opening her towel reverently, as though unwrapping a treasure.

She smiled shyly at the awe in his face, and Spike thought Buffy might have brought Heaven with her. He bent down to kiss her perfect lips, and she surged up to meet him, not content to wait for his touch.

He lost himself to her. There was no Buffy, no Spike, only two lovers joined in union, using their bodies to express the fullness of their love.

He held her tightly after. Afraid she'd slip away the moment he let go. "'M not worthy of you, Buffy. Never will be".

"Spike. Don't be stupid," she said with a smile the Angels themselves would weep over. "Who else could have become the man you've made yourself into? Of course you're worthy of me". He kissed her, but she wasn't done. "And I'm yours. Always. Promise me you'll never forget".

"Never".

"And the others. Promise me you'll tell them I love them too. 'Cause I have the feeling I haven't made that clear".

"You're gonna tell them yourself".

"In case I can't. Please, promise me".

"Anything you want, pet".

"You have a lot of promises to keep, vampire," Buffy said with a kiss to his chest.

"You know I'm good for it".

"Duh. Wouldn't ask you otherwise". She kissed the side of his neck this time. "I love you, William Harrison Pratt".

"And I you, Mrs. Pratt".

She fell asleep eventually, worn out from their lovemaking, and he let her, despite his promise not to. She hadn't wanted to waste a single minute either, but Spike didn't have the heart to wake her. He let her have some peace while she could, using the time to memorize her face, commit it forever to memory. If he had to lose her again, at least he would know each crease, recall each freckle for the rest of eternity.

* * *

It was just past dawn when he slipped out of bed, calling the witches. "Look. I hope you've found something. Because she's being consumed by the demon".

"How do you know?"

"I'm a demon. I feel it. Feel her changing. It calls to me".

"You don't want her to?"

"Red. This is not the time. What have you got?"

"Maybe something. We might have to… restrain her".

"I'll set something up in the basement. You lot ready to circle the wagons?"

"No. But what choice do we have?"

"Damn right".

* * *

The basement was ready now, shackles driven into the concrete wall, a cot set up for her to rest on. Should he chain her right away or wait until the change overtook her?

He'd wait. Let her be herself as long as possible. He crept into Joyce's bathroom, finding the container of hypodermic needles full of powerful sedatives. They'd had to use them on him a few times last summer, when he'd become unreasonable, the despair overwhelming him and driving him into the sunlight. They'd work on her, allow him to subdue her with a minimum of fuss.

He woke Dawn next, bringing her into Joyce's room so he could talk to them both quietly, explain what was happening. "I just got her back!" Dawn cried. You can't take her away from me again!"

"We're hoping we don't have to, Niblet, but she made me promise. If we can't undo it, she doesn't want to live like that. She's the Slayer, luv. All that's good and right with the world. She can't bear being a demon".

Dawn could only cry in response.

"I'm gonna wake her, so you can spend some time together before… but you have to understand, once the demon starts overpowering her again, she's going to be saying some nasty things. Things she won't really mean. Can you handle that?"

"Why can't she control it, Spike?" Joyce asked tearfully. "You can".

"Don't even know what kind of demon it is. And it's just coming to power. Maybe if she had years, like me… she might. But she doesn't want to wait years. I'm gonna make sure she doesn't have to live as a demon if it's the last thing I do".

He left then, going to his room – their room – and scooping her up. "Morning, Mrs. Pratt," he whispered in her ear.

Buffy wriggled in his arms, sleepy, languorous, happy for the moment, until she woke the rest of the way. "You promised," she pouted.

"You looked too much like an angel to wake. We're going to go spend some time with Mum and kid Sis before… you know. Alright? Tell them yourself what you told me, how you love them".

She clung to him fearfully. "What if I change? Hurt them?"

"They're prepared. Don't worry, we're going to help you, Buffy. Fix this. Yeah?" She relaxed a little and nodded. "One last kiss, then".

He kept it gentle, sweet, and pulled away before he got carried away. "Get dressed, luv, they're waiting in Mum's room," he whispered. "I'll see you in a bit".

And he hurried away before the tears could fall once more.

* * *

The others were waiting quietly in the kitchen, faces drawn with fatigue and worry. "Basement's set up," he said tersely, opening the door and leading them down, away from where Buffy could hear.

Tara and Willow immediately began to pour sand, forming a circle, while Anya watched. Xander went to check the manacles. "Looks good and strong," he said, trying to make conversation.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Got years of experience installing restraints, boy".

Xander blanched. "Probably not the more reassuring thing you could tell me right now".

"'M all out of reassuring," Spike growled. "Spent the whole night _reassuring_ Buffy that we wouldn't let her turn into a demon because some sodding children wanted to play _God_ with her life".

"Resurrections rarely go right," Anya said conversationally. "At least in my experience".

"And you couldn't have mentioned this before?" Willow snapped.

"Hey, you're the witch, not me. I figured you'd done the research since it was your best friend's life".

"L-let's save the blame for later," Tara cut in. "We need to k-keep the energy positive".

"So what _are_ we doing?" Xander asked. "Do we know what's wrong with her?"

"My guess is possession," Anya said. "The connection between soul and body was likely very weak, allowing a demon to slip in when we reanimated her corpse".

"You mean, Linda Blair, rotating head, pea soup possession?"

"Along those lines, yes. Standard exorcism spell might work".

"Don't think so," Spike said.

"Why not?" Anya asked curiously.

"Think it's innate".

They stared at him. "You trying to tell us Buffy's had a demon in her all this time?" Xander demanded, outraged.

"Think about it. Slayer. Powers have to come from somewhere. Maybe the bleeding resurrection spell messed with whatever magic binds those powers to her.

"No. No way. Buffy is not a demon," Xander protested vociferously.

Willow sat back on her heels, contemplating Spike's statement. "Remember Sineya? The First Slayer? She was… much more violent than Buffy. Very angry. I could see the Slayer power being demonic".

"Are you kidding Willow? She's the freaking warrior of light! This is just Spike, trying to make it sound like Buffy's all demon-y like him. So it's _normal_ that she wants to screw vampires".

Spike had him trapped in a flash, crushing his windpipe in an iron grip. "I wouldn't say another bad word about Buffy," he warned, dropping Xander on the floor in a gasping heap.

"Energy! Not positive!" Tara squeaked.

Spike turned to her and the other witch. "So what is the plan? How we going to help Buffy?"

"We were going to try an exorcism, but… if you're right and the demon is part of her…" Willow began.

"We'll have to bind it instead," Tara finished. "Otherwise it will remove her Slayer powers".

"Or worse," Anya added. "It might kill her".

"Oh… pooprockets!" Willow burst out. "Now I don't know what to do!"

"I hate to say it," Xander gasped, hand rubbing his neck, "but… research".

"Need the bloody Watcher is what we need," Spike growled. "But he won't be here for hours yet".

"Oh!" Willow exclaimed. "Call Wesley! He might know?"

"That geek?" Xander countered.

"He's not Giles Junior anymore. He wasn't anywhere nearly as geeky sounding the last time I talked to him".

Spike frowned, hating the reminder that he wasn't really part of Buffy's life. The First Slayer. This Wesley bloke. The Scoobies had a long, shared history that he would never be privy too. He shook his jealousy away. Stupid time for it.

"Whatever you're going to do, figure it out fast. I'll bring her down when she's ready". Spike padded back up the stairs, his bare feet making no sound against the wood. He could faintly hear the Summers clan upstairs, talking peacefully, so he slipped outside to grab a quick smoke while he could.

He didn't take long. Some sixth-sense, ever alert to Buffy, told him to hurry inside. He stood outside the bedroom door, listening, until he sensed the anger blooming.

"Sorry, luv," he told Buffy, dosing her with sedatives as he clapped a hand over her mouth. "Not going to let you say something you'll regret later". The tension ebbed from her body and she collapsed into his arms.

"Now you're drugging me again," she whispered before she went unconscious, and Spike hoped that hadn't been accusation he'd seen in her eyes.

"What happens now?" Joyce asked fearfully.

"Scoobies will set her to rights, I'm sure. But 'til then, I'd get out of the house. I'll call you when it's over".

* * *

The demon snarled and gibbered from where she was chained to the wall, hurling dreadful accusations at the small group in the basement, making them each flinch repeatedly. There was no obvious difference in her appearance, but there was something… off. Just enough that you knew it wasn't Buffy.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" Willow gasped after a particularly vindictive rant was directed at her, and she held a hand out to her friend. "Silence!"

The demon raged harder, but mutely now. "Thanks," the others muttered.

"I know it's not her, but… ouch!" Xander said with a shake of his head.

Spike couldn't bring himself to gloat. The things pouring out of the mouth of the woman he loved gave even him pause. He recalled wondering what she'd be like as a vampire, and he was fervently grateful he'd never followed through with his misguided idea to turn her. Seeing Buffy like this was a thousand times worse than finding out how demonic his mother's vampiric nature had been.

Xander's phone rang. "Giles is here," he said after a brief conversation. "I'll go get him".

"You all go," Spike said. "Take a break. She's not going anywhere…" he said, gesturing to the demon that was now glaring at them. "Take the gag off, yeah? I want to talk to her," he told Willow.

"Okay. I'm just going to do it from upstairs," she said in a small voice. "Not that I don't deserve some of those things she was saying, but…"

But his attention wasn't on her anymore. He moved to the demon, head cocked, and let his own demon out. He could see the difference in her now. She was more angular. Harder. Darker.

Willow must have lifted the spell, because she responded when he asked her, "What are you?"

"I'm Buffy. Duh".

"You're not fooling me," he replied coolly.

"Oh, Spike. I'm so scared. Hold me!" she begged, shivering. She was good. He almost believed her, might have even gone to her if he hadn't been listening for the mocking undercurrent.

He stood just outside her reach. "What are you?" he repeated.

"I'm The Slayer," she answered, her eyes cold. "The way She is meant to be".

"Mean and petty?" he scoffed.

"Hard. Vicious. Efficient. A killing machine, unencumbered by friends or family".

"Forgive me for saying it, but I think we preferred the Slayer the way she was before. Any chance you can make it so?"

"Hardly". Her laugh was as cold as ice. "I am free now. For thousands of years I have been bound to a worthless human, one pathetic, fragile girl after another, unable to work My true will. I shall make the demons tremble at My feet, and My victories shall be unparalleled. Her foolish human weaknesses will no longer hold Me back from My true abilities".

"Some think those weaknesses made her stronger. She's the most efficient Slayer there's ever been".

"The Slayer who could not sacrifice the Key to save the world? Who cannot slay _you_, no matter how much you deserve it? I do not think so".

"What let you loose anyhow?" he asked casually, conversationally. Hoping for a clue.

"Don't you like me, Spike?" she purred. "I'm more suited to you," she added, stretching sinuously. "Demon to demon".

He studied her. The demon was part of the woman he loved, he could see it now. But he didn't particularly like it. Not dominant like this.

She tired of waiting for him to answer. "I remember the last time you had me restrained on a bed," the demon said. "Remember? How you fucked me? We could do it again. Nobody else here but us". She squeezed her tits. "I like it rougher than Buffy. You do too".

Bugger. He'd been down this road before. He might make a lot of mistakes, but he liked to think he was at least smart enough to not make the same one twice.

Pants uncomfortably tight, Spike turned and walked to the top of the stairs. He sat there, unable to go farther, needing to stay close in case she escaped. As filthy suggestions poured from Buffy's sweet mouth, he wished he hadn't asked Willow to lift the gag. The demon's lewd offers echoed many of the same things he'd suggested to Buffy, when he'd kidnapped her so long ago.

Hearing them said back to him, he couldn't understand how Buffy had ever come to love him.


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's Notes:**

You guys are the coolest of the cool - I was pretty excited to see this almost hit 100 on the number of people who have favorited! Woohoo! And smart. Have I mentioned how smart you are? The number of people who mentioned that Willow called for the 'Warrior of the People' to come back and not Buffy... see, even I didn't think of that. Or maybe I did subconsciously. Yeah, that's what happened... my mind works in mysterious ways. And also straightforward ones.

* * *

The moment the others returned, he fled. "Silence her again," he advised as he sped outside, away from the monster who'd taken over the woman he loved. He sat on the back porch, quaking, too shaken to light his cigarette.

"_Fuck! Bloody buggering fuck!_" he shouted, flinging the unlit fag away. He almost wished he'd killed her in her sleep. So he wouldn't have these memories of her.

Giles approached him cautiously through the back door. "Spike. Thanks for the call".

He sniffed. "Yeah, well. Too late, aren't we?"

"I should hope not. We'll expend every resource to correct this. But have we learned what 'this' is yet?"

Spike stood up and leaned against the railing, managing to light a smoke this time. After exhaling, he said, "It told me it was the Slayer. The way she is meant to be. That mean anything to you, Rupes?"

"So you were correct, this demon has always been inside Buffy?"

"Least since she was called. Wouldn't you be knowing more about this than me? You being the Watcher an' all".

Giles shrugged stiffly. "We have myths. What the Council has told us. But the true origins of the First Slayer are lost in the shrouds of time".

"Well then. If we're gonna save Buffy, I suggest you get started on un-losing them".

Sighing ruefully, Giles said, "Perhaps I should have remained in England. The Council library…"

"You really want the Council knowing about this? Girl downstairs is determined to fight every nasty out there. Rack up many victories. 'M betting the Council of Wankers would be right pleased with what has happened to her, want to keep her that way".

Giles stared at Spike in horror. "Dear Lord". He cleaned his glasses. "They don't even know she's alive, so we should be safe. She's not on their radar".

He watched Spike light yet another smoke. "Think I could bum one of those off you?" The vampire cocked an eyebrow at him. "It's either that or find a stiff drink".

Spike passed him the lit cigarette and said, "Don't know why we can't do both". He disappeared inside for a moment and then reappeared with a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

"I didn't realize Joyce…" Giles paused, understanding. "Ah. Yours, of course". They clinked glasses. "Cheers".

"Not so much".

Downing his drink, Giles took one last drag off the cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. "Feel better now?" Spike asked.

"Hardly. You say the demon conversed with you about itself?" Spike nodded. "Then I suppose I shall see if it will talk to me".

* * *

"Hey Niblet," Spike said when she answered the phone. "Think things are going to take longer than we hoped. You can come home and fetch some things, maybe stay at a hotel".

* * *

"Heaven? She was in _heaven_?" Willow whispered raggedly. "Is it lying?" she said, looking desperately at the others for help.

The truth was out, no need to hide it anymore. The witch needed to understand _all_ the ramifications of what she'd done.

"Yeah. She was".

"How do you know?" Xander rounded on him.

"Because she told me, nimrod. Made me promise not to tell you lot. Even in as much pain as she was, she was still more worried about your feelings. Didn't want you to know the pain she was in". He cast an anguished glance at the demon. "That's the kind of girl she was".

* * *

"It's been days, Rupert," Spike said quietly as he and Giles shared yet another drink on the back porch, both of them smoking furiously. "Tell me the truth. Can we help her or not?" The other man just stared at him, not willing to admit defeat. "She made me promise. Not to let her go on like this".

"Are you in such a rush to kill your third Slayer, Spike?" There was no response, no flicker of emotion on the vampire's face. Giles sighed. "I am not yet without hope… I have one more avenue to explore. But then…"

"Gonna go patrol," Spike said abruptly. "Call me if you need me".

* * *

"Listen, Niblet. Tell your mum… I don't think we're going to get Buffy back… No, no… I know, sweetheart… No, I don't think that's a good idea. You don't want to remember her like this… Just be glad you had that last morning with her. Got to say everything you needed to say, right? …Yeah. I love you too… No, I won't, I promise. You're my family, got to stay here and take care of you… I'll call you when I know".

* * *

"So this is it, then? Nothing else to try?" Spike asked desperately, the six of them sitting in the Summers' living room. Tara and Willow clung to each other, while Xander and Anya stared hopelessly.

Giles shook his head sadly. "I could continue researching, but… who knows. It could be months, maybe years before I find what we're looking for. And none of the rituals we have found have been adequate".

They could hear the demon raging in the basement below. The longer she had remained chained, the more feral she had become. Spike could barely stand to go down there, to see the bloodied, crazed creature Buffy had become over the last couple of weeks. He forced himself to, though, to care for her and bring her what comfort he could.

Anya flinched as the howling began again. "Maybe more sedatives?" she offered quietly.

Spike stood. "No. It's… if you want to say goodbye, do it now," he said heavily. He didn't even bother to hide the tears. The others had become accustomed to them.

"I can't," Xander said. "Call me a bastard and a coward if you want, because I know I'm responsible for this happening. But I just can't," he finished, his voice cracking. He held his hand out to Anya. "Bye guys. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me for awhile.

"I wish I'd never… oh Goddess, what have I done?" Willow moaned.

Nobody else moved or spoke, and Spike turned wearily, heading to the basement door.

_Finally going to bag your third Slayer_ his mind mocked. _Should have done it years ago. Before you fell in love with her. Could have spared yourself all the pain_.

No, as gut wrenching as this was, he wouldn't give up a single moment with Buffy to avoid the pain he knew was sure to follow.

Spike picked up the syringe from the small table in the basement and pushed the plunger, allowing more than half of the powerful sedative to spurt to the floor. He only wanted her sedated enough to leave the house without hurting the others. He couldn't kill her here, in her home, chained to a wall. It would happen the way it was meant to, in a glorious battle to the death. She'd die a warrior.

She quieted as she saw him, watching warily. "Time to finish this, pet". He grabbed her arm and plunged the needle in. As she calmed, he undid her shackles, then led her to the sink. "Let's get you cleaned up".

She complied absently, docile as he washed her face then rinsed the blood off her arms and hands. He brushed her hair and straightened her clothes, using the moment to hold her one last time, even as empty and shallow as the gesture was.

Spike led her upstairs and out the back door, into his car, and drove to the cemetery through the early evening gloom. Gathering some stakes from the back seat, he took her hand and walked her into the cemetery, then sat her on a cool tombstone, stakes beside her.

"You let me know when that wears off, then, right?" The dreamy look left her eye, and she reached for a stake.

"Yeah. Soon. Don't worry, luv. It'll be over soon".

* * *

.

.

**A/N:** Okay, I know it was short, but that is, like, my favorite chapter ending EVER. There was just no other way to do it.

Want to know what happens? I'm holding the next chapter hostage in exchange for reviews. Yeah, that means you!


	47. Chapter 47

**Author's Notes:**

Okay, you win! I wasn't going to post until tonight (for me), but here goes... I don't regret my heavy-handed demand for reviews, though, got a few of you lurkers to out yourselves! :)

* * *

"You mean to fight me?" the demon wearing Buffy's face growled.

"You wanted to fight. Do your job as Slayer and all that rot".

"But you wear the ring. I cannot kill you. It is not a fair fight. Remove the ring".

He shook his head. "Can't. Would rather do it that way myself, but can't. Promised the little one I'd come back to her. Buffy would understand".

"Then I shall take the ring from you and kill you anyways".

That gave Spike a moment's worry. What if she did? Maybe this wasn't the best plan after all. Story of his unlife when it came to this Slayer. "If you do, promise me you won't go near her family. Leave them alone".

"I have no interest in them. I only care about the hunt. Killing your kind".

Good enough.

"You know I would rather do other things with you, vampire. Instead of killing you," the demon said seductively. "You've got what it takes to satisfy me".

"Not up for that kind of dance today".

She shrugged. "Your loss". And in a flash she was on him, unleashing the violence that had been restrained for days.

Bloody hell. She was much faster than Buffy, stronger too. If he weren't wearing the ring, he'd have already been dusted like some sodding fledge.

Of course, that it was the love of his life attacking him didn't help. Or at least, something wearing her face. Spike had been hesitant to strike back, but quickly found himself losing that hesitancy. Otherwise she really was going to take his ring and kill him.

Not that he cared for his own sake. It would be easier that way, honestly. A relief, even. But the Little Bit would be sad, and he couldn't add more to the grief she was already experiencing. And he'd promised Buffy. No good mucking up his last oath to her, no matter how much it was tearing him apart to do as he'd promised.

He was in the middle of a particularly vicious move when his phone began to ring. And not just any ring, but the emergency ring Willow had programmed in.

What the hell did they want now? "Think we can take a breather, Slayer?" he asked as she swung a tombstone at his head.

"No".

Of course not. Going on the defense for a moment, he turned and ran, pulling the phone out of his pocket. "_What_?" he snapped.

"Where are you?"

"Bit too busy for a chat, Red. _What_?" he repeated.

"Is Buffy still…?"

He went down from a double-footed kick to his lower back. "Alive and kicking".

"Don't do it. I thought of something else".

"Bloody hell!" he shouted as he rolled to the side away from her fist. "Bringing it down to the wire there, aren't you?"

"Just bring her back, okay?"

He rolled to his feet and ran again, away from her vicious little fists. "Easier said than done," he grunted and hung up.

What in the blazes was he going to do now? Now that he had to be sure he only subdued her, not killed her?

Several long and painful minutes later, he realized he couldn't make it happen. The Slayer was not just fast and strong. She was cunning too. He'd have to try a little cunning himself.

"Don't suppose you want to go back to the house, do you?" he tried.

She paused and studied him. "What for?"

He thought Buffy would forgive him. "For… the other things you wanted to do. All this fighting's putting me in mind of a different kind of fun," he smirked, grabbing himself. It wasn't entirely untrue, either.

"Why wait?"

He swallowed. _She'll understand._ "Got chains there," he leered, sucking his teeth. "Thought it might spice things up a little".

Spike let her approach him, let her run her hands over him. Wanted to let her do more.

"See," she purred. "I knew you'd come to your senses". She bit his neck, hard enough to draw blood, and his eyes rolled back as he let out a moan. "But you're going in the chains this time".

"Christ. Whatever you say. Let's just go".

He had to drive back with a lapful of amorous Slayer demon. She straddled him, grinding down, so he had to lean around her to see, trying to focus on the road and not the heat pressing onto his hard cock. It was near impossible. The demon in him didn't give a damn that this wasn't Buffy, it just wanted what it wanted. And it was getting harder to resist the temptation in his lap.

Thankfully they reached the house on Revello Drive at that moment, and Spike had an excuse to get her off of him. Any much longer, and he would have forgotten why they were really there.

"Gonna fuck you so hard I'm gonna split you open," he growled in her ear. Had to play the game, didn't he? Get her down there? He throbbed painfully when she growled back, scoring his chest with her nails.

She was all over him as they tumbled through the front door, not even noticing the others in the room, but he did. He shot them a panicked look, hoping they understood it as the '_Help me!_' he intended it to be.

She had him in the chains and was tearing – quite literally tearing – off his jeans, when she suddenly crumpled over him, Giles standing behind her with a tranquilizer gun.

"Bloody hell!" Spike sulked. "Couldn't you have been a little quicker about it?"

Giles let out an undignified chortle, which turned into a full case of the giggles at the vampire's glare. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he wheezed. "It's just… we used to be so afraid of you, and now…" He began to giggle again. "Well, look at you".

"And this is convincing me _not_ to kill you how?" Spike tried to sound menacing, but it mostly came out huffy. Damn.

The Watcher giggled once more, then managed to wrest himself under control. Finding his dignity again, he said, "I'm sorry. The pressure got to me for a moment there. I found the entire situation somewhat ludicrous". As Spike opened his mouth to protest, Giles shook his head and went on. "Ludicrous because who could have ever imagined this? Because it turns out I was wrong and Buffy was right. You are truly capable of change, of becoming someone better. And because you love Buffy so very much – look at what you're willing to do for her. I do believe it is an honor to know you, William the Bloody".

Spike gaped at him. There really was no other response. "Red try out some kind of spell on you?" he finally ventured once he was unbound once more.

"Hmm? Oh, no," Giles chuckled, and Spike was afraid he might get hysterical again. "I can see why you would come to that conclusion. No, I am in full possession of my faculties. I was merely… having an epiphany, if you will. I understand now what Buffy sees in you".

Spike was never gladder to be a vampire than he was in that moment; he knew he would be blushing furiously otherwise. As it was, he was able to get by with a casual, "Well, thanks, mate". He added in, "I can see why Buffy likes you too," for good measure as they chained the girl in question up, the shreds of his ruined jeans doing little to conceal his dangly bits.

They were silent for a bit, contemplating the chained Slayer. "So Red has an idea?"

"Yes," Giles said excitement battling with British reserve, "and I must say, I do believe it is quite a good one".

* * *

Spike cocked an eyebrow disbelievingly. "We're going to save Buffy by going to sleep?"

"No, we're going to save her by getting the help of the First Slayer. And the only way I know how to summon her is in my dreams. Our dreams. Since she's already been in them," Willow explained.

"And tried to kill us through our dreams, I might add," Xander reminded her anxiously.

"I've got that covered," Willow replied, but Spike saw the doubt flash across her face. Not that it mattered to him. The First Slayer ought to know how to bind the demon once more, what with having undergone the process herself as far as they could guess, and that was more than worth the chance of dead Scoobies to him.

"And so I'm here to play wake-up fairy, is that it?" Spike asked.

"Just… keep your eye on things. You haven't been visited by Sineya, and I don't know how she would react to a vampire in her dreamspace. My guess is not well".

Giles handed him a small tape recorder. "And perhaps try to catch anything we say that might sound like a spell or other important information".

Spike eyed the machine. "Right. Secretary. Got it".

* * *

They'd set up mattresses in the basement, near the sedated Slayer, Tara, Anya and Spike watching over the dreamers. A number of symbols surrounded the floor where the dreamers slept, and herbs were burning by the head of each of them.

The tape recorder sat within easy reach, on the table where Spike and Anya were quietly playing cards. Willow had insisted that they needed to fall asleep naturally, which meant that none of the three had been able to quickly drift off, and those left to watch were bored and sleepy themselves. It had been a long night already, and was only getting longer.

Spike stilled when, as one, Giles, Willow and Xander sat up. "What's this, then?" he wondered quietly, hand snaking out for the recording device.

Tara closed her eyes. "It feels like they've all gone into a trance".

"And are we thinking this is good?" Anya asked.

Giles stood over Buffy and reached for her. Spike tensed, but the older man simply put his hand on her head. Xander and Willow followed suit. Again acting in unison, they opened their mouths and began to intone something unintelligible, their voices deep and eerie. Spike clicked on the recorder, even though he didn't think they'd need it. Whatever the spell was, he was fairly certain they were doing it right now.

His suspicions were confirmed when the Slayer went rigid, appearing to struggle against something unseen. When she began to thrash without actually moving, in obvious agony, Spike gripped the tape recorder so hard he crushed it. He flung it down and growled, "How long you think this is going to take?"

Tara put a soothing hand on his arm. "As l-long as it needs to to make Buffy herself again". He shot her a grateful smile and relaxed a little.

The chanting grew louder and more complex, until it seemed the whole room was filled with the echoes of their voices. Then they began to chant faster, and Spike could have sworn the room began to revolve. Lighting flashed and the sounds of thunder rumbled over Willow, Giles, and Xander's voices as a vortex appeared, swirling around them and the Slayer. Anya, Spike, and Tara clutched at each other, unbalanced by the pull of the vortex.

The Slayer added her voice to the mix, howling in an unearthly language. Tara clutched Spike harder, sensing his desire to rush to her. "No!" she gasped out. "Don't interfere!" Spike nodded grimly.

When the din seemed to reach a crescendo, the Slayer let out a terrified, agonized scream. Instantly, she and the others who had been chanting collapsed to the ground, the room falling silent and dark.

"Did – did it work?" Anya asked timidly.

"Something sure as hell happened," Spike replied. He loosened the hold the two women had on him, then crept cautiously over. He examined each one, saving Buffy for last. "Sleeping soundly," he declared eventually.

Tara had joined him with a flickering candle. "Her aura…" she breathed. Spike looked at the blonde witch intently, waiting anxiously to hear what she'd say. "It's beautiful. I think it worked".

"Yeah," Spike smiled. He hadn't sniffed a trace of demon about her. Buffy appeared to be in a deep sleep, her face angelic in repose. "Think so".

"I want to shout 'Hooray!' but I don't think I have any energy left," Anya moaned. "I'm just going to…" and she crept to a mattress and fell upon it. Spike lifted Xander by his arms and dragged him somewhat gently over, laying him next to Anya. She opened one eye. "Thanks," she muttered, and rolled to throw one arm over the now-snoring man.

"You too," Spike said, motioning Tara to one of the mattresses while he scooped Willow up. She smiled gratefully and lay down, holding her arms open to embrace Willow.

Spike rolled the Watcher onto the last mattress, then went to Buffy, arranging her more comfortably on the cot. He stroked her hair, debating whether he should call the other Summers' women now or not, to give them the good news. A wave of exhaustion overtook him, and he decided it could wait until morning.

With a gentle kiss to her brow, Spike lay on the cot next to Buffy, pulling her into his embrace, and then fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Buffy opened her eyes slowly. She felt like she'd been run over by a truck. Maybe the same one that had hit Glory. The pale light filtering through the dusty windows revealed that she was in her basement, surrounded by sleeping people. And intimately curled up with one non-person.

"Hey," she said softly, happy to see the clear blue eyes that were watching her intently. "Miss me?"

Those eyes blinked rapidly, fighting off tears. Buffy reached to caress Spike's face and found she couldn't. "Chains?" she asked bemusedly.

Spike sucked in a breath, his expression apologetic. "Sorry, pet. Just had to be sure".

She rubbed at her wrists as he unbound them. "What happened?"

"Talk later, luv. I just need to…" His gazed roamed over her.

"Bask?" she smiled. He didn't answer. "That bad, huh?"

"Thought we'd lost you forever," he admitted. "Almost had to…" he trailed off, the tears falling freely now.

This time she was able to reach his face. "Hey. It's all okay now". She frowned slightly. "I think".

He was suddenly worried. "You feel alright? Feel like you?"

She scrunched her nose. "I don't know. Did I crave brains before?" She giggled at his expression. "I'm kidding! Just kidding! But I am starving".

Tipping his head toward the stairs, he said, "Well let's feed you up then".

They tiptoed silently around the still bodies, then up the stairs. Buffy sat on a stool and stretched while Spike pulled things out of the cupboards. "Except for the soreness, I actually feel good," she said disbelievingly. "Strong. And not… numb, or overwhelmed. Or angry. Or anything bad". She frowned. "Think it will last?"

Spike came around the counter and cupped her cheek. "Hope so, luv. For your sake".

Buffy stretched up and kissed him, just a brush of her lips against his. "I like this," she said. She wanted to say something more, something sweet and tender, but her nerve failed her. "Having my own vampire chef," she quipped instead.

He ran his hand through her hair, looking hesitantly into her face, and then turned away and went back to breakfast. Buffy watched him, pondering their relationship.

When she'd thought he'd have to lose her all over again, she'd freely given herself to him as a farewell gift of sorts. Given him the love he so desperately craved, so he would have one beautiful, _willing_, memory to cherish of her, thinking she'd never have to worry about the consequences, never have to decide if an intimate relationship with him was what she really wanted.

And now here they were, and while Spike was more than willingly taking care of her, she realized he was giving her space. Letting her choose whether to move forward as lovers, or return to something less.

Seeing him like this, she didn't want less.

She stood and joined him in front of the stove, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Spike stilled, leaning back into her.

They stayed like that until Buffy's stomach gave a particularly loud grumble. He chuckled. "Now I know for sure you're back to normal. Hungry little thing," he said, pouring pancake batter into the sizzling pan.

"Mmmm". Buffy reached into the fridge for juice, then spied the pile of blood bags. "Are you hungry? Can I heat you up some breakfast?"

Spike turned and looked at her, head cocked inquisitively, a wistful smile playing about his lips. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Well, yeah. Seems only fair, since you're making me breakfast". She pulled out a bag and poured it into a mug, then set it in the microwave. She stood next to him again and bumped shoulders with him. "Would you think I was crazy if I told you I'm kinda liking the domestic harmony bit?"

Spike smirked. "No, I'd just say it's about time my wife got trained up good and proper".

"Asshole!" Buffy spluttered, punching him in the shoulder, secretly pleased he felt safe enough to tease her and call her his wife.

"Now, now, pet. I'm an asshole with flapjacks".

The microwave beeped and she turned away, pulling the mug out. When she turned back to hand it to him, he was holding a plate of pancakes out to her. She chewed her lip for a moment, then said, "I'm going to go with the corniness of the moment here," and she stepped closer, leaning up to kiss him. When she stepped away, his eyes were closed, lashes fluttering against his cheek. "Yum".

Opening his eyes, Spike smiled broadly. "You're bloody perfect, woman. Absolutely amazing".

Buffy set his mug on the counter next to the stove and pulled the plate out of his hands. "Flattery will get you nowhere, buster. Pancakes, on the other hand…" she trailed off, pouring syrup all over them and digging in.

When she'd cleared her plate twice, Spike said, "Mum and the Little Bit are staying at Xander's flat. They're waiting for me to call and…" He swallowed, then recovered. "Bet they'll be happy to hear your voice, Buffy. You want to give them a call?" He cocked his head towards the basement door. "Maybe from upstairs? Others are stirring".

"Spike," she said. "Come here". He came and stood before her where she sat on the stool. "Nuh-uh, come _here_," she insisted, pulling him closer so he stood between her thighs, then reaching up to pull his head down to hers, kissing him thoroughly. "You're the one who's amazing".

She could have sworn he was blushing. "Tell me something. Did I love you this much before I died?" she asked, and chuckled at his expression. Disbelief and awe and radiant happiness. "I'm guessing if I did, I forgot to let you know".

"How can you? You know what I am".

She turned serious. "You're right. I do. I know you're a demon, and you're not exactly good, and you don't always choose what's right… but God help me, I love you anyways. Because I know who you are, and I see the man you're becoming, and he is _incredible_".

Spike rested his forehead against hers, his hands on her waist. "I won't let you down again, Buffy. I swear it to you. Never again".

"You probably will. But I'll probably let you down too. I'm done trying to pretend I don't love you. It doesn't seem so important after being dead. And all demon-y on top of that. And… you stayed, Spike. Stayed after I died and took care of my family without any hope of me…" Tongue-tied, she tried again. "I always worried you were trying to be good just to please me, but I wasn't even around to see it, so… You did change, Spike, all on your own. I mean, I don't know. You're missing parts that a man with a soul would have, … but… somehow, even without the soul you're being good. _Really _good. Better even than most humans, in some aspects…"

With a sudden frown, she asked, "You haven't been killing, right? Or anything evil-ish?" When he quickly shook his head she smiled brilliantly. "See? I knew it. You're… I believe in you. Just… just don't do anything to break my heart again. That's all I'm asking. Okay?"

* * *

After a speech like that, nothing was going to stop Spike from doing what he needed to do.

He would go to the very ends of the earth to make sure he didn't let her down, didn't break her heart ever again.

.

.

END PART III

* * *

**A/N: **A couple of end notes to forestall questions I imagine you might have (and that won't necessarily be answered in the story).

.

So... Spike loves Buffy, Buffy loves Spike, they live happily ever after for the next 23 chapters, right? Hello, have you met me?! (Chuckles evilly...)

.

For those of you looking forward to a big fight scene, sorry... if I could get away with it, all my fights would read like this: There was kicking and punching and general ass-whupping. Then Buffy won.

I don't think the concept of dreamspace was introduced until S8. It's not really explained, but people seemed to be able to approach each other through it. Since they don't explain it, neither will I bother. In fact, one thing I've realized while writing is that I don't have to explain every little thing. This is major for me - I'm one of those people you don't want to watch a movie with, because I want every single damn thing to make sense. But Buffy the Vampire Slayer rarely follows any kind of logic, and I've come to accept that that's okay. And the corollary is that it's also okay when even I don't know why something happens in my story... So the answer is 'just because'. Now shuttup and eat your vegetables.

This also applies to the Slayer demon. The concept was introduced but never really explained in any way... the way I imagine it, it's a neutral demon that REALLY likes to fight 'bad' guys, and its powers have been mystically bound to the Slayer line. It's not evil, but it is demonic, so, a little rough around the edges. I'm not sure if it normally physically possesses Slayers or not, but I wouldn't think so, because otherwise how can there be more than one Slayer? It's always been with Buffy since she was called, but her personality was dominant. Thanks to Willow's resurrection spell, it became dominant. The Slayer demon has been around (and aware) all this time, and it knows what Spike can do in bed. It wants him, because, hey, this is Spike. Who doesn't want Spike? Is the demon part of the reason Buffy is attracted to vampires? Sure, why not (Don't tell Xander, his head might explode). I think some people were confused and thought there was multiple possession going on, but that's all it was, so hopefully it's clear as mud now.

And yeah, somehow the rebinding ritual cleared Buffy's depression right up. Handy, isn't it?

My final note is on Spike. I'm sure you've figured it out, but I just want to make it absolutely clear, this is NOT canon S6 Spike. He's a waayyyy different guy... he doesn't want to drag Buffy into the dark with him. Also think about what he said in canon - if any part of what Willow brought back was Buffy, he wouldn't let it go... compare that to him being willing to send demon-Buffy back to Heaven. I know opinions vary hugely on whether or not Buffy could or should accept an unsouled Spike, but this Spike is way further along on the path to redemption than in canon.

Oh, and since more than one person has noticed... when my people talk, the period goes outside of the quotation marks because I grew up in French Canada, and so my punctuation is all kinds of wonky. I'm working on it... future stories will be punctuated American style. I didn't want to switch half-way through.

Anyhow, whew, thanks for reading!


	48. Part IV Chapter 48

**Author's Notes: **All Hail Joss Whedon!

* * *

Part IV

.

"I can't believe you're really leaving. It feels like we just got you back!" Xander complained.

Willow's eyes widened. "Not – not that we want to complain! Or tell you what to do! Or make you feel bad in any way!" she protested.

Buffy smiled wryly. "It's okay, Wills. No more demon agresso-girl for me. You've apologized enough. And – and you're going to be training with that coven now, right? So no more magical mess-ups".

"Absolutely," she agreed, eyes downcast. "I didn't even need to hear Giles' big speech about power and responsibility and wisdom… kinda figured it out on my own after everything went ka-blooey".

Buffy turned to Xander. "It's not forever, Xand. I just want to go help Mom and Dawnie settle in. Spend some time with them. I'll be back for spring semester. Back to being a college girl. And hopefully all trained up in my new-found abilities".

"That's one good thing to come out of this mess," Xander agreed. "You've put the 'super' in super-hero, that's no joke".

"Meanwhile, I'm not gonna lie – I'm happy I'm not going to be anywhere near those goons the Council sent to protect the Hellmouth," Buffy said with a shudder. "I remember what happened the last time they were here. Not good memories".

"Yeah, it's hard to kiss and make up with guys that try to kill you". Xander frowned. "Unless they're Spike, I guess".

Buffy blushed. "He's not the same man…" she said warningly.

"Oh, no, I get it. We all get it. We don't really believe it, but we get it," Xander said. "I spent a couple weeks watching the evil dead bawl his eyes out over you, Buffster, when he should have been thrilled at what you'd become, and then having the guts to do what we couldn't on top of it. If I weren't so firmly not gay, I'd be kissing him too".

"On that disturbing image…" Buffy laughed.

"You sure you don't want to stay for Halloween?" Willow begged. "With all the extra Hellmouthy goodness?"

A horn honked repeatedly, expressing the driver's impatience. Willow and Xander dove in for a hug. "I'll see you guys soon," Buffy said, her voice muffled through their bodies. "It won't even be as long as when I was dead".

They released her with one last kiss each, and she turned and ran lightly to the car before the honking could start again. "Impatient much?" she laughed as she climbed in, sliding along the black leather seat until she was nestled against the driver.

"Every minute you're not by my side is like a bloody eternity," Spike growled playfully, pulling out of the driveway.

Buffy laughed happily. "You're such a sap. Such a – what do you call it? A poncy bugger," she giggled at his mock outrage.

"You've had a whole eternity in Heaven. I've only had twelve days of it. 'Scuse me if I'm a bit greedy still".

"Sap," she repeated, nibbling on his ear, and he turned to capture her lips with his. She groaned into his mouth, then sighed blissfully and cuddled into him. "Been a long time since we've road tripped," she said.

"Two years," Spike agreed.

"Almost exactly," Buffy added. She wrinkled her nose. "We're not going to make it into some twisted anniversary are we? You kidnapping me and taking me on a long road trip?"

Smiling wickedly, Spike drawled, "Guess that means I should take your anniversary present back then".

"Present?" Her eyes lit up and he laughed.

"Just teasing, luv. But I've got something you can unwrap later, when we go to bed tonight".

"Pig".

He snuffled into her hair, oinking softly, and she giggled. "Happy, sweetheart?"

Buffy turned her brilliant smile on him and shook her head. "No way!" she exclaimed loudly, then pointed at the sky and whispered, "I don't want to tempt fate. Buffy is not allowed to be happy, it's one of the rules of the universe".

"Sod the universe. 'M gonna make you the happiest woman ever".

* * *

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to stop for awhile? Someplace… dark and secluded? So we can, um, look at the stars?" Buffy asked, blushing.

Curling his tongue, he said, "Thought you wanted to hurry to Sacramento, catch up to the others". She wriggled in her seat, not looking at him. "Luv. You don't need to be coy with me. All you need to do is say, 'Spike, I need to ride your big hard cock' and -"

"Ew!" Buffy cut him off. "I'm not like that". His face fell apologetically, and she added, "Not… yet, okay? I'll try to be more like you want me…"

"Buffy, luv, just be you. All you have to do to please me is exist. I know I'm a bad, rude man. You don't have to go all Sandra Dee in the last five minutes of Grease to make me want you".

Twisting her wedding ring nervously, Buffy said, "Now. Sure. But you're… I know you like certain things, and I can't give them to you. And someday it might not be enough".

Spike had found a deserted off-ramp and was pulling off, letting the car ghost slowly to the intersection. He cut the engine, plunging them into quiet, and turned to her.

"What're you on about?" Spike studied her face, and when she didn't answer he said quietly, "Is this because of what I did with the other Slayer?"

Buffy nodded, tears glistening. "And when I turned all demon-y. I know you were tempted. And you spent over a hundred years with… It's a lot to live up to. And it's not… I can't. I mean, I know I'm not experienced and I'm willing to learn. And there's a lot of things I _do_ want to do, but… there's some things I _don't_," she finished in a whisper. "And I don't want to disappoint you".

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, pulling her onto his lap. "You've been worrying about disappointing _me_?" She nodded against his chest. His arms crept around her more tightly. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Buffy resisted when he tried to tip her chin up, but he tried again, more gently, and she let him. "Listen to me, Buffy. It would be pointless for me to lie and say I don't get off on pain and violence, because you already know it's true. That's the demon in me, and it will always be a part of me". He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across her lips. "But it's not the biggest or most important part of me – that belongs to the part of me that wants to worship you and treat you like the treasure you are. And anything you want to do with me will be more than satisfying, because all I want is _you_. Understand? If all you ever wanted to do with me of rest of eternity was kiss, then I would spend the rest of eternity a happy man".

"God, you're a sweet-talker," Buffy said shakily.

"S'only the truth. So don't _ever_ worry you're disappointing me or not enough". Buffy's heart pounded as he began to _smolder_. "But on the other hand… isn't it nice to know that no matter what you want to try, you've got a more than willing partner? Who will be happy to make your every… single… fantasy… come true?"

She gulped. "So if I said I wanted you to take me on the hood of the car, right here…"

Smirking, Spike slid a hand over the curve of her breast and replied, "Well, I could say that's not even close to kinky". He nibbled on her ear, then said, "Or I could tell you you're a dirty, dirty girl who should be put over my knee and spanked for having such nasty thoughts". Nostrils flaring, he chuckled lowly at her reaction to his words. "Hmm, now that's kinky, Slayer".

Buffy gulped again. She could do this. Let out her inner vixen. Spike made her feel safe. Maybe once he would have hurt her, but that was past now, and she'd seen him pull back, refuse temptation for her sake.

These last twelve days had been sweet and slow, exploring each other's bodies, Spike worshipping her in the dark of the night. Through their lovemaking, they expressed their joy at being together, truly together, for the first time. No spells, no cases of mistaken identity, no fears holding them back. And the best part was, Buffy didn't bother to feel any guilt for loving him. As far as she was concerned, Spike had proven himself over and over, to her and her loved ones.

No, he wasn't perfect – far from it – but she loved him anyways, and was proud of him. Of how far he'd come, on his own. There was a marked difference between this Spike and the one she'd left behind when she died. Her death and resurrection and his time living with her family had changed him, sent him further along the path to redemption than she would have ever guessed. This Spike bordered on _good_. The niggling voice in the back of her mind, the one that always wondered just when the soulless demon would turn evil once more, was mostly quiet these days. Buffy expected amazing things in the future from her vampire.

With a happy sigh, she abandoned her thoughts and gave over to pure sensation. As the feel of his hands sliding over her body pulled her away from herself, removing her inhibitions, she shifted to straddle him more fully, her skirt riding up until it was about her hips. "Spike, I need to ride your big, hard cock," she whispered, letting her voice go throaty and raw.

His eyes flew open and he blinked at her in surprise. Then he smiled, slow and sensuous. "Far be it for me to keep a pretty lady from what she needs," he rumbled, and in a trice his jeans were undone and his thick length out, pressing into her wet center. He hitched her skirt up farther, and Buffy gasped when she felt her panties being torn from her hips.

"Hey!" she protested, though the action made her burn even hotter.

"They were in my way," Spike pouted, his lower lip jutting out just enough that the only thing she could do was grasp that lip and suck it into her mouth with a groan. She centered herself on him then plunged down, taking him to the hilt, both of them moaning at the sensation. The way he was looking at her, the devotion in his eyes, made her tremble with awe.

Spike began to thrust his hips, but she stilled them with her hands. "Nuh-uh. My ride".

He smirked, running his tongue over his teeth, and settled back into the leather seat, hands clasped behind his head and eyes glittering in the dark. "Well, then, giddy-up cowgirl".

His assurance that he'd like anything she did made her bold. She grasped her shirt and pulled it off, tossing it to the side, then began to slide up and down him while she reached up and pulled her hair back, letting it fall over her shoulders, the wheel of the car lightly scraping at her back. Buffy kept her movements slow and sensuous, wondering if she looked as wanton as she felt, the ancient leather seat rocking and creaking beneath them. Based on the way Spike was watching her through his lidded eyes, she guessed the answer was yes.

She wasn't one for dirty talk, but she loved the things Spike whispered in her ear and guessed he would like it too. "I love the way you feel inside of me," she tried out huskily. "You make me burn, like I can never get enough. When you're not in me, I feel so empty". She ran her hands over her breasts while she said it, tweaking her pebbled nipples through the lace bra. Spike groaned, beginning to buck beneath her.

Stilling completely, Buffy flashed him a severe look. "You move without permission and we're done". Not that she in any way meant it. If he threw her down on the seat and pounded into her, she wouldn't complain one bit. But she liked the feeling of power it gave her when the effort it took him to stop moving made him quiver uncontrollably.

"Fuck, pet, don't stop, please," he begged, jaw clenching with the repressed need to move.

"Well then, be good. You just hold still and let me ride you. Let me satisfy myself on your cock while you watch," she added, willing herself not to blush.

He swallowed and moaned, remaining still, but his hands began to inch out from behind his head. "Let me touch you at least," he pleaded. "Need to touch you, baby".

Buffy would have said yes, but she liked the needy, desperate look in his eye. "No. However…" She ran one of her hands down her body, over her clit, coating her fingers in her juices down there and holding one out to him. "Want a taste?"

His eyes locked on her finger and he nodded wordlessly. She touched her finger to his lips and he sucked it in, his cool tongue laving her with a grunt of appreciation, his lips sliding up and down her finger in time with her body's movements on him. Spike opened his mouth to encompass a second finger, and the feel of his tongue working the thin pad of flesh between her fingers sent a bolt of pleasure through her.

"More," he whispered after letting her fingers fall out with a wet plop.

She let her hand fall back down to where they were joined. This time she fingered her clit, rubbing it the way she needed as she moved faster on him. She rested her other hand on Spike's shoulder to steady herself as her breathing became ragged and her movements more jerky. She could feel how tense he was beneath her hand, the effort of holding still making him completely rigid. As soon as she knew she was going to fall over the edge, Buffy jerked, screaming his name while she exploded around him.

"Uh, Buffy, can't…" he gasped out, his hands shooting to her hips and pumping her body up and down on his shaft until he came too, moments after her.

She collapsed against his chest, fighting for breath, noting he was doing the same. Long moments passed, harsh pants eventually giving way to soft respiration. When they'd both recovered she placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall, and asked, "Why do you breathe?"

He stopped unexpectedly and the lack of movement was disconcerting. "Do you want me to quit doing it?"

"Huh? No. I was just wondering. Since you don't need to".

The steady rise and fall began again. "Just happens around you. You make me feel alive, I reckon".

Placing a kiss against his chest, Buffy said, "You make me feel alive too. I think coming back from being dead would have been a lot worse if it hadn't been for you". She looked into his eyes. "You were the only thing that made it okay to be alive again, that first night".

Spike drew her in for a kiss, his expression tender. They kissed softly for awhile, and Buffy felt him growing hard again.

It had taken her a few days to realize that Spike truly enjoyed having his head between her legs, that he might even want it more than she did, which would be damn near impossible. Because Buffy had decided that she could happily spend the rest of her life with his tongue buried inside of her. Still, knowing that he got off on it too made her bold. Gathering up her courage she said in his ear, "I want you to eat me out on the hood of your car".

He groaned, instantly fully erect. "Bloody hell, kitten. Believe me when I say I am in no way complaining, but only minutes ago you were blushing at my little nasties". He looked at her sharply. "You're still you, right?"

Laughing, Buffy said, "Yup. Plain old me. But I realized something. As far as kinky goes… well… I just engaged in necrophilia. With one _very_ hot dead guy, but still. Can't get much kinkier than that". She blushed and he grinned at her.

"I am one damn sexy bloke, aren't I?" he bragged, waggling his eyebrows.

When Spike had her laid out on the hard hood of his car with her legs over his shoulders, his duster spread out beneath her and his mouth buried in her pussy, the stars spinning lazily above, Buffy let herself give in to the hope that her life could always be this good.

* * *

"This is so cute!" Buffy exclaimed, touring their new house. "I'm glad they let us move in early".

"Especially since my new job starts Monday," Joyce said. "That gives us all weekend to unpack".

"But not 'till tomorrow, I'm in need of sleep…" Dawn groaned. "What took you so long? With how fast Spike drives, we figured you'd beat us here!"

Spike smirked as he watched Buffy try not to flush. The quick stop had turned into hours before his girl was satisfied. He'd known, so long ago, that she was full of passion and fire just waiting to be let loose, and it had started showing through tonight.

Not that he needed her to change in any way. He hadn't been giving her a line earlier. If all she wanted was soft touches then he'd consider himself blessed by the gods themselves. But if she let him… the things he would teach her.

"Speaking of bed, I didn't know what you two wanted…" Joyce trailed off delicately. In the whirlwind of packing that had followed Buffy's recovery, there hadn't been much discussion about anything.

Buffy froze, a deer caught in the headlights. Everybody knew that she and Spike were sleeping together, but nobody actually mentioned it.

"We'll be in the apartment, Joyce," Spike said, taking command. "Little privacy, yeah?" he said with a wink, chuckling evilly when Buffy turned bright red.

"Oh, come on, it's not like we don't know what you two are up to. And you are wearing the wedding ring again," Dawn said. "I know you consider yourselves married, so it's nothing to be embarrassed about if you're boinking".

Buffy squeaked and ran away.

* * *

Lying sleepily in his arms later, Buffy said, "I like this apartment idea. Having you all to myself".

"Like not having to be so quiet, don't you? Minx," Spike chuckled.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed sleepily. One finger traced his chest. "Are you going to stay here when I go back to Sunnydale?" she asked softly.

Spike furrowed his brow. "Are you daft? Why would I ever want to be apart from you?"

Buffy smiled happily at his response and snuggled into him, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

The vampire reflected on his answer and sighed guiltily. Because being apart from her was exactly what he was considering. He just needed to find the way to tell her he had to go.


	49. Chapter 49

**Author's Notes: **I refuse to confirm or deny any allegations of what Spike is up to!

But I know the bigger question in your mind is: Will I be mocking S8 in this story? The answer to that is, why yes! In this very chapter! (If you haven't read S8 it won't affect you in any way).

My thanks to Stevie Wonder for the lyrics. If you're too young to remember the 80's... uh, I was going to say you're probably too young to be reading this, but a quick mental calculation made me realize otherwise. Crap, when did I get so old? Anyhow, you young'uns can youtube the song while I go take my dentures out.

* * *

Spike opened his eyes to find Buffy humming cheerfully, hanging her clothes in the tiny closet. The sight made him smile, but then he sighed. "Pet, come here," he said, hoping his anxiety wasn't showing through.

It must not have, because Buffy happily bounced onto the mattress next to him. "What's up, lover?"

He swallowed. "I was thinking maybe the Watcher would like to have the apartment while he's here working with you".

"Oh! That makes sense, I guess. Giles would like that more than being in the guest room. Peppy teenage girls are hard to handle first thing in the morning at his age".

"So you can put your things upstairs, yeah?"

"Sure, we'll take the other bedroom. We've already done quiet. I can do it again," she smiled sultrily, and Spike almost lost his train of thought. But not quite.

No time like the present to ruin the day. "Yeah, 'bout that, luv… I was thinking while you and Rupes were testing your new strength and whatnot, it might be better if you weren't distracted". She cocked her head at him quizzically. He plunged right in. "See, I have this… thing… I need to take care of, and 've been putting it off for a few weeks. Couldn't bring myself to leave your side". He tried to smile disarmingly, to distract her from her rising worry. "Figured it'd be a good time while he was here".

"You want to leave me?" Her voice was small and tight and full of unshed tears.

"What?" he burst out. "No! NO bloody way!" He calmed himself and took her hand. "It's just… I _have_ to do this".

Her lip crept out in a pout. "I might understand better if I knew what _this_ was".

He was afraid of that. He scratched his head uncomfortably. "Look, s'not a secret or anything bad. It's… I… Do you trust me, luv?"

"Yes," she said, but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"I promise, I'll tell you when I come back. But… it's… I don't know if things will work out like I hope and I don't want to say anything if it doesn't".

"Oh," tiny and scared. "Is… is it dangerous?"

Probably. "No". Almost definitely.

"Where are you going?"

"Not completely sure yet. But I'll call you, let you know". He stood up and walked to his duster, unabashedly nude, pulling a pair of golden rings out of a pocket. Holding them up to her, he said, "I had these enchanted. So that no matter where we were, we would always be able to find each other. The jewel here, see? You twist it like so, and it leads you to the other ring". He shrugged depreciatingly. "In case, you know… you wanted something like that".

Buffy grabbed the smaller ring out of his hand. "You think I wouldn't?" Slipping it on, she asked, "But what if… I don't know… you weren't there to find?"

Spike understood immediately. "If I dusted? There'd be no ring then. Nothing to lead you to. So no pull".

"Oh". She twisted the ring on her finger, studying it. "When would you leave?" she asked, refusing to look at him.

"Prob'ly Monday morning".

"And how long…?"

"'M guessing two weeks. A month tops".

She turned to him then. "That long?"

"Don't rightly know where I'm going yet, sweetheart. Rather tell you longer and be home sooner. But I'll be home by Thanksgiving for certain. Wouldn't want to miss being with my girls. Got lots to be thankful for, this year," he said softly.

Buffy was silent for awhile, and Spike reached out to caress her hair, wondering what she was thinking. Finally, she spoke up. "But that means… we won't have long together here, before I go back to Sunnydale. Back to classes and being the guardian of the Hellmouth. I was… looking forward to just being with you. Like a honeymoon".

Spike closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more to stay. But he'd vowed. _Vowed._ And he had to do this. "Better now, when you've got the Watcher here and not much to worry about. I'd rather be back by the time you move to Sunnydale, so I can patrol with you on the Hellmouth. I just got you back Buffy. After thinking I'd lost you forever. _Twice_. I couldn't leave if I was worrying about you".

Buffy lost her scared voice and became indignant. "So don't go at all! And, hey, don't worry about me. You know I can take care of myself! I don't need you protecting me". She had him pinned to floor before he could even blink, a stake at his heart. "Especially now".

"I know you can take care of yourself, Buffy, that's not what I meant. I just… I _love_ you so bloody much, the thought of losing you sets me to sniveling like a big girl's blouse. Makes me come over all manly and protective-like".

She sniffed. "I guess I don't mind that". She loosened the grip of her thighs on his hips and let herself settle down on him. "I like it when you come over all manly," she added, grinding into the erection that had sprung up the moment she'd thrown him to the ground like a rag doll.

With a twist of his body, Spike flipped her over onto the mattress and deftly settled his body over hers. "Well then. That works out nicely, doesn't it?"

* * *

"This is a lovely home, Joyce," Giles said over a cup of tea. And I must say, Sacramento seems quite pleasant. I hope you'll be happy here.

"I think so. And Dawn's already made some friends at school, even though she's only been there three days. So far, so good".

"Indeed. Buffy, please thank Spike for suggesting I take the apartment when you speak with him next. It was very thoughtful of him".

"Sure," Buffy said, half-proud of the stupid vampire and half-angry at him for not being there to accept the compliment himself. Stupid jerk, leaving her just when she'd finally decided that she was through fighting her feelings for him. Without even a hint of where he was going or why.

"Well, you two have fun today. I have to run and get Dawn to school," Joyce said, standing up and grabbing her car keys. She dropped a kiss on Buffy's head. "Don't get too rough with Mr. Giles".

"Yes, thank you!" Giles added with a smile.

"So what's the what?" Buffy asked after they left.

"Well, since we're hoping to keep your, um, reemergence among the living from the Council for the time being, I'm afraid I'm somewhat short on training equipment. I was thinking, actually, that we could simply head to the park and see what you've got the old-fashioned way". He dug a stopwatch out of his pocket.

"Council, schmouncil," Buffy said. "Not like we've ever been the height of technology anyways. That's what the Initiative was for and I kicked _their_ asses even then".

"Indeed".

She began to clear the table. "Giles… why do you think this happened to me? Why do you think I'm stronger since you got rid of the demon?"

"Got… rid of?" He blanched.

"Uh… why are you looking at me like that?"

"Buffy, did you not know what happened?"

"I got possessed by a demon and you guys got rid of it. Or… maybe not, based on the funny noises you're making". She sat down again.

Giles was in a frenzy of polishing lenses. "Dear lord, I thought you understood, but… The demon was always part of you. Still is. It is the source of your powers. It was simply loosened by the resurrection spell, until we bound it to your essence once more".

Buffy felt herself growing more and more faint. "I'm sorry. Did you say… I'm a demon?"

Giles hesitated. "I wouldn't quite word it like that…"

"NO! No, no, no! I am not a demon. I'm not, Giles!" She grew more frantic with each denial. "There's no way I'm evil!"

He grabbed her shoulders. "You are not evil!" he said intently. "Not every single demon is evil!"

Buffy gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, I don't know. I don't remember being particularly not evil when I was being possessed by it. The things I said and wanted to do…"

"Were not evil," he insisted. "They were… self-serving, perhaps, and violent, true. But the violence was directed towards the eradication of other evil creatures, not towards the innocent. And now those tendencies have been subsumed by your humanity, simply allowing you to harness the strength and drive of the demonic essence".

"Whatever that means. What I don't get is, how come no one told me this? It's been two weeks. Surely somebody could have brought it up. Like say, the vampire that has conveniently run away. Oh yeah, because he's a self-serving demon". She put her hand between her heads. "Like me," she moaned softly. "Is that why I fall in love with vampires? Because I'm a demon too?"

"Buffy, my dear. I'm not sure how this misunderstanding occurred. We must have all assumed you remembered enough that you knew. And then with the rush to pack and move, it never came up". Buffy shook her head. She was more than sure she and Spike had spoken of it. And the little sneak had never said a thing. He'd left it to somebody else to deal with.

But then, shouldn't he have been gloating? After all the crap she'd given him about being a demon? A monster?

Her face softened. No, he wouldn't. Because… he wasn't a monster. He probably knew how hard she'd take it.

And hey, he was a demon. A formerly but no longer evil demon. Maybe this revelation wasn't so awful.

"So… I don't understand. I'm a demon? I have a demon in me? What does this mean?"

Giles took his glasses off once more. "I'm afraid your guess is as good as mine. If the Council knows of this, the records are deeply buried. From what I can gather, the demon essence was somehow transferred to you when you were called, imbuing you with its strength and drive to slay". He replaced his glasses on his head. "But I could not tell you if an actual demon resides within your body. According to Tara, your aura does not reflect it, and Spike said he could not sense anything demonic about you until the Slayer essence began to overtake you".

Buffy contemplated that. It was nice to know she didn't appear to be demonic to those who could sense it. She relaxed slightly. "So how can there be two Slayers then? I can't be sharing one demon with Faith."

"I admit I am baffled, but as is often the case with mystical things, it is outside the realm of our understanding. Very rarely can anything supernatural be logically explained".

"Touché. And you really think I'm not a demon?" Buffy asked again.

Giles smiled benevolently. "No my dear, I am certain you are not a demon. Consider yourself compared to the First Slayer, even. We would not have called her demonic and yet she behaved far more like the demon than you ever have".

"Except for when it took me over".

"Yes, with that exception, naturally. And as to your original question, I believe your capabilities have increased because the way you access the demon's attributes has changed in some fashion since we rebound it to you".

"Tell me how you did that? How did you figure out what to do if the Council doesn't know anything about it?"

"I'm afraid the details are somewhat blurry. Willow, Xander, and I intended to approach Sineya through our dreamspace, since she had appeared to us there after we melded with you to defeat Adam. Our goal was to request her help, but since it was in the dream state I don't exactly remember what occurred". Giles hesitated. "Obviously we should have discussed it immediately, but our relief was so great…"

Buffy stood up and put her hand on his arm. "I get it. And I guess it doesn't matter. I know now. Just… kinda big with the shockage factor. The forces of good are actually demonic".

"And again, demonic does not always imply evil".

She sighed. "Process later. Train now".

* * *

Panting, hands on his knees as he bent over, Giles called out, "Buffy!" She turned and ran back to him so quickly he could barely register that she had already returned. "I can say with complete authority," he gasped, "that you are faster".

"How much?" she asked, hopping from foot to foot restlessly. Now that she was moving, she felt like she could keep going forever.

Giles straightened. "Much," he said.

"Stronger too," she said, just barely straining herself as she picked up a bench with a grunt. The bench Giles had just sat down on. "Do you think it will last?"

"It has been two weeks. I should think so," Giles said. "Do you think you could put me down now?"

"Sorry!" She set him down and proceeded to leap over the bench, clearing his head by a good foot. "I just have all this energy". She laughed. "I am _so_ going to wipe the floor with bleach boy when he gets back".

She shimmied up a tree and to the end of a branch. "Think I can fly?" she called down from over twenty feet up.

Giles grasped his chest. "Buffy!" he yelled in a strangled voice. She dropped straight down, landing lightly on her feet.

"Just kidding. Don't have a heart attack".

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "And no, I do not believe you can fly. You're not Superman. Supergirl. Slayer. Whatever".

"You sure? I could try to outrace a speeding bullet".

"I don't think that will be necessary. You are fast, but I assure you, not that fast".

"I tell you what, this is going to make my job sooo much easier". She frowned. "Maybe more boring, though".

"Yes, well. Sometimes boring can be good".

Buffy sprang into a perfect handstand and walked around the bench on her hands. "True. It might be nice to have time for homework for a change". She dropped down and straightened up. "So what now?"

Giles eyed her. "I suspect we should train with weapons. You might find yourself unbalanced due to your newfound strength".

"Ugh. You're right. I might turn all klutzy again. That was so not fun".

* * *

Buffy's phone rang. Glancing at the number, she saw it was Willow and answered with a smile. "Hey Wills!"

A chorus of voices poured through the speaker – Willow and Xander, Tara and Anya, all singing.

.

"We just called to say

We love you!

We just called

To say how much we care

(oh yes we do!)

We just called to say

We LOVE you!

And we mean it from the bottom of our heart!

.

The phone went dead. Buffy stared at it, nonplussed. "Well that was of the weird".

* * *

"Hey!" Buffy squealed. "I haven't heard from you in days! I was worried!"

Spike pulled the phone away from his ear, her excited squeals making his sensitive ears ring.

"Been out of cell phone range, pet. Just wanted to let you know, I think I've found what I'm looking for. So it shouldn't be too much longer".

"Well that's good, because I miss you so much I…" She trailed off, and Spike imagined he could hear her blushing through the phone.

"You what, luv. Had to satisfy yourself? Touch your sweet little quim and imagine it was me?"

"Uh-huh," she whispered breathlessly.

He leered, even though she couldn't see him. "You doing it now, baby?" His own hand stole into his jeans and he was glad he was alone in his hotel room.

There was no sound for a minute, and then she said, "Had to go to our room. Not an appropriate conversation in front of Giles".

Spike had a mental image of Rupert's eyes bugging out of his head and his glasses being whipped off. He laughed softly. "Slip that little hand of yours into your knickers, kitten. I want to hear what you sound like when you're getting yourself off".

There was a breathy moan, and then Buffy said hoarsely, "You better be doing the same".

"No worries, kitten. I'm so hard I could pound nails right now, thinking about you touching yourself". She giggled. "Want you to wet your fingers and pretend it's my tongue, sweetheart". She moaned again, and Spike tugged harder, cursing himself for leaving her side for even a minute.

"Where's my tongue now, Buffy?"

"Uhhhnnn… inside me. On my clit. All over, just how I like it. There's nothing hotter than when your mouth is on me".

"Oh, bloody hell!" he bellowed, his hand suddenly sticky, and he heard something between a sob and a laugh from the other end.

"You're so sexy when you come," Buffy whispered. "Just hearing you made me come too".

"Yeah?" he asked, pleased with himself.

"Hell yeah," she giggled again. "I love you, Spike".

He closed his eyes. No matter how many times she said it, he never tired of hearing those words.

"I love you too, sweetheart. More than I ever thought was possible".

"You're still not going to tell me what you're doing, are you". It wasn't a question.

"I will, Buff. I promise".

"S'okay. I trust you Spike".

Even more than 'I love you', those words got to him.

"That means a lot to me, Buffy," he rumbled.

She sounded like she wanted to say something else, something serious, and then stopped. "So, um… where are you?"

"Africa".


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Notes: **If you'd never watched the show, I could have been more sneaky-like...

Many of Spike's lines are taking from the shooting scripts for 'Beneath You' and 'Same Time Same Place' in S7 (very, very different from the actual transcripts).

* * *

"It's been two weeks since I've heard from him!" Buffy shouted. "He said he'd be home soon. He promised to call. And he hasn't. He could be hurt, Giles". Buffy's eyes began to tear up. "He swore he'd be home by Thanksgiving, and that's in four days," she whispered.

"I understand," Giles said heavily. "I simply don't think you should go off half-cocked, with no idea where he is or what you're getting yourself into".

"Africa. He said Africa".

"That's an entire continent, Buffy!" he exploded. "I appreciate your desire to find Spike, but what if you get there and find he's gone? Already on his way home?"

"And what if I get there and I'm too late by a day? I'm sorry, but I have to go. Today. Now, are you going to help me or not?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, of course. A last-minute trip to Africa is just what I had planned for today".

"Good. 'Cause me too".

* * *

"There are two tickets to Cairo available for tomorrow. I have them on hold for the next 12 hours".

"Cairo?"

"Egypt. It seemed as good a place to start as any. Do you have any actual plan for how to find him once we get there?"

"I'm going to lie and say yes. Which – not a total lie. Got the ring".

"That you have no idea how to use other than twisting the gem and hoping it shows you where to go".

"I'm not going to stand by and do nothing".

* * *

Buffy's phone rang and she answered it with a terse hello. The number wasn't Spike's and she didn't want to be talking to anybody else. In three hours they would be on a plane to an entirely different continent where the locals didn't speak English. It was a dizzying prospect.

The voice that replied made her forget all that. "Buffy… is it really you? I can't… How?"

"Angel?" she squeaked.

"Yeah. This is… I have to say, I'm a little bit freaked out. I thought you were dead".

"I was… I got resurrected. It's all the rage these days".

"So I've heard… but… nobody told me," Angel replied, his voice hurt.

"Oh. Well it hasn't been that long, and… I'm trying to keep the council from knowing just yet. So we've been keeping it really hush-hush. Only my family and the gang know," Buffy apologized. "I was going to call you soon". Or not. It hadn't even crossed her mind.

There was silence for a moment, and then Angel said, "Well, I guess that makes more sense now…"

"What does?"

"Uh… Spike. Called me. He was… not quite lucid, but he was very adamant about me calling you. Giving you a message. He made me repeat your phone number back to him over a dozen times".

Buffy's heart flew into her throat. "What message?" she rushed out, impatient to know.

"That he couldn't be with you anymore, and not to look for him". There was dead silence on the line. "Hello? Buffy?"

Buffy stood there, fighting tears, not sure if they were tears of anger or pain. She finally forced herself to speak. "Tell me everything he said, Angel".

There was a long-suffering sigh on the other end. "Spike… he started calling me about a week ago. I never quite understood what he was talking about. He'd ask me how I could live with all of them staring at me all of the time. Why I didn't tell him how much the spark burned. That he was trying to cut it out but it wouldn't go. Things along those lines. He sounded completely insane. He'd rave at me for a minute or two and then hang up. Two or three times a day, like that.

"After the first few calls, he started talking about you too. How he was a monster and should never show you his face again. He'd failed you too many times and didn't deserve you. Which… well, I thought you were dead, so, I didn't pay much attention. But then he kept giving me the message, making me repeat your phone number. So two days ago I finally said I'd do it to get him to shut up. Curiosity got the better of me today. I never thought..."

She gave a terrified laugh. "No, he's not completely crazy. But what does he mean? What happened to him?" Her voice rose with each word. "Where is he?" she cried out.

"Why do you care?"

Buffy was too worried to spare Angel's feelings. "Why the hell do you think? I love him, and I need to find him now! He promised me he'd be back! Why isn't he?"

"Buffy, this is Spike," Angel shot back. " His promises don't mean much".

Her voice became steely. "Yes, they do. Spike is the most loyal man I have ever known. And you know him too. If he's saying these things – something's not right – something bad must have happened to him. So, what else can you tell me Angel? Because I am going to be on a plane to Africa in less than three hours to look for Spike, and I could really use some help. Otherwise hang up and stop wasting my time".

There was another sigh. "You really love him? _Spike_?"

Her voice grew softer. "Yes. I know it's hard to believe, but… he's different now. And I didn't mean for it to happen, but…"

Angel's voice grew softer too. "I'm sorry, Buffy. You must be going crazy. Or… Ahem. So, a few times, I heard people talking in the background. Chanting. I had Wes listen in, and he told me it sounded like Lugandan. Which is what they speak in Uganda".

"Uganda… okay, that's in Africa, so good. But… why? Do you have any idea why he's there?"

"He didn't tell you?"

She almost screamed in exasperation. "No! He said he'd tell me after he came back, so no, I have no idea what he was doing. Or where to find him".

"Buffy… this might sound crazy… which is, I guess, the word of the day… but… Sometimes, when he was talking to me? It almost sounded like he was asking how to deal with a soul".

She gasped. "A… soul?"

"I… I think so. Which would explain why he's gone insane. The guilt… it took me… and I'm still not… If he has a soul, he's got to be in a lot of pain. And probably doesn't think you'd want to have anything to do with him. Now that he understands exactly what he's done for the last 120 years".

"Oh, Spike…" she breathed. He'd done it for her, she knew it. Even though it didn't matter to her anymore. She shook herself. She had to find him now, let him know that she loved him more than anything. That she still desperately wanted to be with him. "Any idea how or where a vampire goes to get a soul in Uganda?"

"None. But I'll have Wes look into it, and maybe by the time you land I can help you".

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I know it's one big shock after another, but… this means a lot to me".

He was very quiet when he answered. "Sure, Buffy. I'll call you later". And he hung up.

* * *

"Angel?"

"Hey Buffy".

"We're here. In, uh… _Giles, where are we?_" There was as pause, and then she said, "We got our flights switched, and we're in Nairobi, Kenya. Which is really close to Uganda. So Giles says".

"I'll take his word for it. We haven't come up with much so far. There are legends of a demon that can grant wishes, one who is powerful enough to do something like return a soul. I have no idea what kind of demon or where exactly to find it, though".

"Good enough for me. You keep looking. I'm going to see what I can find out here".

* * *

"Okay, Giles, time to see how this thing works," Buffy announced, twisting the jewel on the ring Spike had given her. She immediately felt a desire to turn left and start heading in that direction. "Huh. Like that, I guess". She described the sensation to him.

"I presume it is functioning properly, since that direction is northwest – towards Uganda". He cleaned his glasses tiredly. "We rent a car and follow the pull?"

Shrugging, Buffy said, "Guess so. Don't know what else to do. At least… at least we know he's still there".

* * *

"Giles, stop! Turn here!"

He glanced through the dusty windshield of the old Jeep. "Here? There's… Good lord, Buffy, even in a Jeep…"

"Definitely here. I just know it somehow".

Giles sighed and did as she asked.

* * *

"My dear, I cannot take this vehicle any further, no matter how much you may wish it".

"Fine. Take it and go back to town. I'll walk the rest of the way".

"Buffy, let's go back to town together. Perhaps we can get some information…"

"We're _close_, Giles. I can feel it". She began filling the backpack with water and food, then threw in some smaller weapons. "I'll go the rest of the way on foot".

He took a second backpack and did the same. "I am coming too". Before she could protest, he added, "If we are close, then I shall be able to make it as well, and better two of us than one. We don't know what we're facing".

Smiling, Buffy said, "Thanks. It's too bad Angel didn't get back to us before we left cell phone range. What good are they anyhow? They never work when you really need them".

* * *

A rodent of some sort scuttled further into the cave, away from the play of their flashlights. It was cold in there, colder even than one would expect. Buffy shivered, wondering what they would be up against.

"Definitely here," she whispered, the unexpected sound startling both of them.

She went further inside, then let out a small cry. Rushing forward, she lifted up the thing she'd seen on the ground, confirming what she thought. It was Spike's duster, abandoned in a corner of the cave. She held it out for Giles to see, who nodded in acknowledgement.

They descended down a tunnel that led from the back of the cave, the air growing colder with each step.

"Put this on," Buffy whispered, handing the coat to a violently shivering Giles. He did, looking entirely uncomfortable as he did so.

"There's definitely something here, even I can feel it," he said, his teeth clattering with the cold. "The question is, if Spike has been calling Angel, it couldn't have been from anywhere near here – no cell service as you pointed out. How did he get here?"

The tunnel suddenly opened into a humungous cavern, dimly lit by a few flickering torches, and Buffy's hand covered her heart. "We'll find out soon enough". She could see a form lying crumpled in the center and she rushed forward.

"Spike?" she hissed frantically, shaking the limp vampire. He was pale and gaunt, his bones poking through his almost translucent skin. "Spike!" she repeated desperately, but there was no response.

Giles had reached her now. "I believe he's starving," he uttered gravely.

With a look of grim determination, she pulled a dagger from the backpack she'd set on the ground and rolled up her sleeve.

"Buffy!" Giles protested, but she quelled him with a look.

"Spike needs to eat _now_. Unless you're offering your blood… You know I'll recover quickly".

"Angel – he almost killed you when you allowed him to feed".

"Spike's not Angel," she said simply, and she cut her arm, thrusting the open wound into Spike's mouth. The vampire didn't stir, but she angled him so the blood had nowhere to go but down his throat. The cut quickly healed itself, long before Buffy was done, and she sliced open her other arm with a grunt of frustration.

By the time the second wound had healed over Spike was less pale than before, the dark shadows under his eyes slightly less noticeable. He moaned and shifted in her arms, then fell silent again.

She held him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Can you take my backpack so I can carry Spike?" she asked Giles.

"I don't believe it's going to be that easy," he replied in a strangled voice, and she looked up. Where the cavern had been empty before, they were now surrounded by thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of people, of all different nationalities and modes of dress, packed tightly from wall to wall. The majority appeared to be young women, but there were rough looking men and even newborn babies amongst the crowd, and all of them had fixed Spike with angry, malevolent eyes. The temperature had dropped so low that even Buffy was shivering violently now.

"Uh, who are they?" she whispered in fright.

Spike opened one bloodshot eye. "Mine," he croaked.

"Yours? Yours what?" Buffy asked.

"You shouldn't have come, pet. T'was just me and them. Fitting, really".

The fear was beginning to get to her now and she shook him. "Make sense, dammit!"

"Sorry, luv, fresh out. No visitors allowed today. Come back with a pass". He closed his eye again.

She frowned at him in frustration, then turned to the other man. "What do you make of it, Giles?"

"I would venture ghosts, but… so many. And here? Ghosts are tied to where they died. I find it impossible to believe so many have died in this cave".

"My vote is for something other than ghosts… think of all the bones we'd have to salt and burn," Buffy said.

"Salt and… what on earth are you talking about?" Giles demanded.

"To get rid of ghosts… you salt and burn the bones".

"Where in heaven's name did you hear such ridiculous nonsense?"

"Stupid Winchesters," she muttered. "Whatever. Only one way to find out". She lay Spike back down on the cold cavern floor and stood up, stepping towards the people. They glanced at her but didn't move. She took another step, and her hand passed right through the ephemeral man in front of her.

She spun back around. "Simple enough. Whatever they are, they can't do much more than glare". With that, she shouldered Spike and stepped towards the exit. The previously incorporeal apparitions became solid, pushing her, and Spike, backwards.

"Giles? Little help?"

"Perhaps they don't want Spike to leave," he suggested warily.

Buffy gently set him down, then attempted to pass again. She met with no resistance this time.

"Okaaayyy… I guess that explains why he hasn't left yet". She put her hands on her hips. "Now would be a good time to make with the knowledge, Knowledge Guy".

"Ahem… I'm not…" Giles trailed off, and then pointed. "Buffy, do you…?"

"Recognize them?" she asked, seeing where Giles was pointing. "Yeah. They were students at Sunnydale High. Who died my junior year. The year… Spike came to town". She whirled slowly, her mind working. "Do you think…?"

"Yes. These are Spike's victims".

Seeing them like that – so many! And some so young – made it real to her just what Spike had done in his long unlife. And if Angel was right – if Spike had a soul now… she couldn't imagine. The guilt had to be unbearable.

A large group of small children, none of them over two, stood in front of her. Buffy could only stare in morbid fascination. Giles walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "You know what he was".

"I – I did… but seeing the proof. Damn Giles, I knew he was evil, but this… I forgot".

"Does this alter how you feel about him?" He gestured to the mass of people. "We could leave him – he was right. It would be a fitting fate".

She whirled on him. "Are you serious? You _know_ he's not the same man anymore. This – this is just proof of exactly how much he's changed".

Spike groaned from the floor and pulled himself into a sitting position. "Never be enough, Buffy," he said with a haunted expression. "The problem is, I was once this really nice guy. But no more. Gone, he is, only a demon in his place". His eyes rolled wildly. "Stuffy, stuffed, full packed, sorry mate, no room, out you go. We're packed to the bloody brim, standing room only, and no room for that. We. Are. Full".

He suddenly tore his shirt open, exposing his chest, and Buffy saw with horror that it was a mass of welts and healing cuts, all of them centered over his heart. His hands clawed at the wounds, reopening them. "Full of sin. Full of guilt. Full of hate and love and loss and feeling. Full of it, quite frankly, and it's been so long since we felt anything here," he rambled, and then laughed madly. "Rusty switchboard, sparked to life, bound to be more than a few sharp shocks".

Buffy stared at him, her eyes wide, her hand over her mouth. Angel had never – well Angel had had a century to deal with his soul before she met him. Would it take Spike that long to come to grips with the guilt he was feeling now?

"Spike," she said softly, kneeling in front of him on the rocky ground, taking his hands in hers to stop them from digging into his chest. "You were a good man once, and it's true – the demon changed you. But look at what you've done. You've fought back – on your own, even before you got this soul. You became a good man again". She gestured at all the people staring. "I know it can't erase this, but… I believe in you, William Pratt. I love you. I know you'll do right from here on out".

He giggled insanely. "Can't love me. Nothing to love. Only hate. You hate me. God hates me. _They_ hate me. I hate myself even more. I can't sleep. Can't think. There's voices and darkness and blindness and pain and…" His eyes suddenly cleared and they zeroed in on her face with a frightening intensity. "Buffy? Help me".

"I am, baby, I'm right here. We need to get you out of here. Tell me how we can leave".

The lucidity left his eyes, and instead they filled with horror. Spike cringed, ripping his hands from hers and shielding his face from her. "No, no, mustn't see, mustn't look, not fit to see. Tried to be in the light but don't belong, it burns". He curled up into a tiny ball and howled, "It BURNS!"

And then Spike passed out.

"Buffy, look," Giles whispered. She did. All of the apparitions had disappeared. She noticed the temperature had risen as well.

"What the hell?"

"Guilt," he stated. "I believe they're a physical manifestation of his guilt. He's punishing himself".

"Well, they're gone now. Let's blow this joint while we can".

"That's the thing. If Spike is doing this to himself, I don't think he can. Until he deals with the guilt".

Buffy crouched down and stroked the vampire's hair. It was filthy, long and disheveled, with the roots showing through. "We can't wait around for that. Who knows how long it could take".

She took a deep breath.

"Maybe we can get rid of the soul. Like… like I did to Angel?"

* * *

.

.

A/N: 50 points if you caught the Supernatural mock-age (if you've never seen Supernatural, it's the part that didn't make any sense!).

And let's just pretend it's easy to flit around that part of Africa, between countries, in a Jeep, okay? Giles is greasing a lot of palms when he has to.


	51. Chapter 51

**Author's Notes: **We're on the downswing now, over 2/3 of the way through!

* * *

Giles was in a lens-cleaning frenzy. "If you are suggesting having – carnal relations with Spike while I am here…"

Buffy blew out a breath. "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd go back to the other cave, honestly".

The Watcher gave an unmanly squeak and then composed himself, saying gravely, "I understand your reasoning. However, Buffy, in the first place this soul likely isn't a curse, so it is doubtful that your method of removal would work. Second, this was Spike's decision. Something I'm sure he did not come to lightly, or without much effort on his part. To attempt to remove it – it would render his decision worthless, and you would be dishonoring him by doing so".

"And letting him die is better? The soul is killing him". Seeing Spike trapped by his own conscience, Buffy was terrified for him, willing to do whatever it took to get him home.

"Don't you think he would want to find another way? We haven't the means to remove a soul in any case".

"Okay. Let's go back to Plan A. Try to leave while the guilt ghosts aren't around. Maybe as long as he stays unconscious…"

"I suspect they'll simply reappear when he wakes. And drive him back here".

Frustrated, she groused, "So, what, I have to play vamp psychologist if we want to get Spike home?"

"I believe so".

Buffy sighed. "Whatever. I need to eat, then. So I can feed him more. He's so… that's got to be half the problem there". She shivered a little. "Any chance you could get a fire going? For our sakes?"

"I'll go scout for some firewood".

"Thanks Giles". Buffy gave him a tired smile. "I'm glad you're here".

* * *

Sitting on the cold floor near the small fire, amidst the litter of granola bar wrappers and water bottles, Buffy tried to coax Spike into taking more of her blood. She'd fed him twice more, each time when he was unconscious, but he still wasn't nearly as healthy-looking as she would have liked.

And now he was awake and outright refusing. In fact, the idea seemed to be driving him even further around the bend, so she gave up.

"Can't take – can't drink – not with their eyes on me!"

The ghosts were back, and their eyes were definitely on Spike.

"How about… if we could catch an animal – like a rat. Would you eat?"

"Filthy disgusting creature. Only right. Live in the filth. Angelus had the gist of it. Rats and alleys, ashes and sackcloth, but never atonement".

Buffy turned helplessly to Giles, who said, "I'll see what I can find".

She turned back. "Spike, look at me".

He did, and a wistful smile appeared on his face. "Buffy. Look at you. You glow. What's a word means glow? Gotta rhyme". He scuttled backwards, away from her. "I should hide, hide from you, hide my face. You know what I did".

She followed slowly, trying not to spook him. "Yes, Spike, I know what you did. You turned yourself into a good man. You held back your demon. You even… you even got a soul". His eyes were fixed on her now, pleading for _something_. "Why did you do this, baby? I loved you already. You didn't need a soul to earn my love".

"Did. Understand now. Wasn't enough, was never enough. Hurt you, killed you, didn't I? Had to become the kind of… who would never do that". He was crouching with his head in his hands. "Was only an act. Pretend game. Be a man, don't hurt the girl. But the girl gets hurt".

Buffy reached out and pulled him to her. "You didn't kill me. What are you talking about?"

"I did though," he sobbed into her chest. "Got mad. Let the demon have control. Broke my promise, wasn't there. Too late. Too late to save you. Had to watch you jump, fall, broken. Never do it again. Put the soul in, take the demon out. Except – it doesn't go, does it? Still wants what it wants".

She felt his face changing against her, felt his body tense. Her senses were going haywire, but when he exploded within her arms and shoved her violently to the hard ground she didn't resist. Spike held her down, and gone was the broken man. In its place was a ruthless predator. "Still want to drain you dry," he purred darkly. "Still want to hear you scream. Why shouldn't I?"

Buffy turned her head, exposing her neck to him. "Do it then".

He collapsed on top of her, sobbing again, and she wrapped her arms around him, murmuring soothing sounds.

After awhile the sobbing stopped, and Spike whispered against her neck, "Buffy? You're really here?"

"Of course I am".

"And you don't hate me?"

"No. I love you with everything I am".

"But she hates me".

She looked up to see a ghostly version of herself glaring at them. The ghost Buffy looked… well, broken. Beaten, raped, dead, maybe all three.

"I did that to you," Spike whispered in horror. "Hurt you. Killed you".

She grasped his head and turned it so he was looking at her. "No you… well okay, some of it. But then? You saved me. Loved me. Made me whole. And that's who you are now. That's what matters".

"Never enough," he said hoarsely.

"Yes. It is. You were evil, Spike, there's no denying it. But not anymore".

"It's still inside of me".

"It's inside of everyone". Buffy and Spike turned to see Giles squatting nearby. "Listen to me, Spike. You're not the only one who's done evil. The potential is inside all of us," he said. "When I was younger, I did things – terrible things that I am ashamed of and can never atone for. But I try every day, because it is all I can do". Giles gestured at the assembled ghosts. "You've had a long time to wreak evil upon the world. Redemption will not be easy, but you'd already begun on that path years ago. What you have done here – getting a soul – it is nothing short of amazing. And Buffy is right". He nodded at the ghosts. "That is not who you are anymore. Not for a long time now".

Spike cocked his head at Giles, studying him intently. "You can accept me too?" When the other man nodded he stood up and swiftly moved to the crowd, coming to stop in front of the group of toddlers. "I killed them without a second thought – the entire orphanage. Drank the little children's blood and laughed. _Rolled in it. Painted it on Dru and licked it off_". He turned back to Giles, who had blanched. "You can forgive me this?"

"Y-yes," he stammered.

The vampire turned to another group of people, dozens of young blonde girls. "And these, Slayer? These I killed after promising you I wouldn't do evil anymore. Another broken promise". He swallowed. "I – I didn't just kill them. I hurt them. Made them scream, because they weren't you. Raped them and tore them apart". He turned his tormented gaze on Buffy. "You'd invite me back in your bed, knowing this?"

She walked to him, reaching out to cup his cheek, keeping her gaze steady despite the revulsion his confession sent through her. "I know what you've done, Spike. And yes, I love you anyways. Maybe – maybe even more. Knowing how much you've changed. There's nobody stronger, more determined to fight their nature than you".

Spike slumped. "I can't atone for this. Can't say sorry. Can't use forgive me. Nothing will ever fix it".

"Spike".

"Yeah?" He tried to avert his face, but Buffy wouldn't let him.

"You can't undo the past. But you can make a new future. A better one. With me. I want you to come home. I know… I know you feel remorse now, where you didn't before. I know there's a lot of pain, and guilt. And I'm not saying it should go away – because – well, you should feel guilt. But," she shrugged. "What's done is done. You can't change it, so…"

"So moaning and pissing about it is pointless?" He almost looked like himself for a moment, but then he crouched down again. "You were supposed to stay away. Don't need a monster in your life.

"_Spike. _I couldn't. Without you… if you stay here, leave me… you will hurt me. More than you ever have". Buffy squatted down in front of him. "I _need_ you, William. Monster and all".

He broke down again, falling into her arms. "Hurts," he gasped. "Hurts so much".

"I know, baby. It's supposed to". She kissed his brow, rocking him for what felt like hours, until he shushed once more. "Look," she said softly, and Spike did. The ghosts were fading away, one by one, until the three of them were alone once more.

Buffy stood and pulled Spike with her. "Come on. It's time to go home".

He looked around apprehensively. "Think they'll really let me leave?"

"Will you let yourself?"

In response, Spike held tight to Buffy's hand and walked hesitantly towards the exit, and then seeing his path clear, moved faster and more confidently with each step.

"It's all right, don't worry about me," Giles muttered. "I'll just pick up the garbage and follow along behind".

* * *

When they reached the mouth of the cave, Spike shrank back. "Too bright," he muttered. "Can't be in the light. Don't belong".

"It's okay," she said, tugging him forward, then letting go with a gasp when his hand entered the light and began to sizzle. "Spike! Where's the Gem of Amarra?" she demanded.

"Took it off. For the trials. 'N then… I don't know".

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Not sure where I put it," he answered sullenly. "Wasn't in my right mind, was I?"

"Check your pockets," Buffy sighed. "I'll go check your duster". She made her way back to where Giles was just coming into the main cave. "Would you think I was a bad Slayer if I said I liked him better without the soul?"

He gave her a poignant smile. "He's adjusting. But in the long run… I can't deny that I am pleased with this development. I had learned to trust him, but… this makes it easier".

"True," she grumbled. "Check his pockets for the Gem of Amarra, will you? He seems to have lost it".

"Oh, dear lord," Giles muttered. "Very well". He tentatively reached into the various pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes with a longing look.

Buffy caught it. "Hey. You don't smoke".

"Ah. I recently took it up again and it's been… difficult to break".

"You started smoking?"

"With Spike. While you were… when we thought we'd have to…"

"Kill demon-y me". He nodded. "That reminds me, I have a bone to pick with the stupid not-telling-me-the-truth vampire…" She spun on her heel and Giles stopped her.

"Perhaps that would be a better conversation for later, don't you think?"

With a visible effort, she held herself back. "You're right. Don't need to be bringing the guilt ghosties back".

"Oh! Here it is!" Giles announced, handing her the ring.

"Good. It's so much easier to deal with him when he's not flammable. Give me those," she said, taking the backpacks from him. "We've still got to walk back to the Jeep".

* * *

Buffy held Spike tightly, trying to soften the jolting ride in the back seat as Giles negotiated the Jeep back down the rutted trail. "Will you please eat more?" she begged him quietly. "I don't like seeing you like this".

He shook his head stubbornly. "I can find blood later. 'M not feeding from you anymore".

"It doesn't hurt me, you silly vampire. I'm stronger now, don't forget".

His tortured eyes caught hers. "No. But it hurts me".

"Oh. Right," she said, eyes downcast. "Sorry".

"Plus, you're forgetting the side effects of Slayer blood… S'not the time for me to be feeling… amorous. Any much more and it'll become a real problem".

Buffy blushed. "I did forget about that". She cast about for something to distract herself from that topic. "Um… tell me how you did it. Got your soul".

* * *

"Hey," she whispered softly. "Time to change planes". Spike's eyes popped open and he looked bewildered, until they settled on her face. "Last time, I promise. Next time we stop, we'll be home. Just in time for Thanksgiving".

"'S Thanksgiving already?" he mumbled as they walked down the aisle.

"Uh-huh. I called home and Dawn about split my eardrum open. I'm surprised it didn't wake you. Mom and Dawnie will be waiting for us at the airport. For _you_," she emphasized.

He froze. "No, pet, can't. Don't deserve -"

Buffy pushed him forward. "We've been through this. I love you. They love you. Even Giles loves you. We all want you home. I know you've gone through a big change, see things differently now, but – to us? You're still the same guy you were when you left. The guy we love and want around. Got it?" He walked a few steps on his own and then began to falter again. "Keep moving, buster. I'll be mad if I miss out on Mom's turkey".

"Bossy bint," he muttered darkly.

"You know you love it," she replied, slipping her arm into his. "Come on. You can be as broody as you want later".

That got a rise out of him. "Oi! 'M not broody!"

"Of course not, sweetheart".

* * *

"I see them!"

Spike cringed at the high-pitched squeal, and even more so when he was suddenly enveloped by the dark-haired teenager. She was showing him affection he wasn't worthy of, and it brought to mind the faces of the _others_, the thousands her age that he had killed – or worse.

"Sorry!" he gasped, pulling away and attempting to flee. He was restrained though, Buffy's hand like a vise around his arm. "I can't!" he cried out. "So many like her! What I would have done, could have done to my Niblet!" he wailed.

Buffy's voice was firm in his ear. "But you didn't. And you never will – to her or anybody else again. Right now, though, you're hurting Dawn in a different way. You're scaring her".

Spike stilled, knowing that what she said was true. Dawn was staring at him with those big eyes full of tears. He swallowed away his own pain and panic, pushing them down so he could give the girl what she needed. "'Lo Little Bit," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Told you I'd be back for you, didn't I?" The tremulous smile she gave him made it worth the pain.

"I've missed you so much, Spike. Come on, we've got a whole feast ready!" He let her take him, lead him along, unable to believe that these Summers women could love him so.

* * *

"Spike!"

The sound of many different voices calling his name in greeting overwhelmed him, and he cowered back against Buffy.

"It's okay," she soothed him quietly. "They're all happy you're here. I told you, you're loved".

Dawn took charge, striding forward and leading the Scooby gang away. "So, Spike's had a long trip and he's tired. Why don't we go see to the food," she bossed the others.

Joyce turned and looked at the two blonds. "Dawn and I rearranged things while we were waiting for you to return. We've moved Mr. Giles upstairs and set up the apartment for the two of you. So you can have a peaceful place to retreat to," she told Spike, and he smiled gratefully. "Why don't you go on down now, and I'll come get you when dinner's ready?"

Buffy took Spike's hand and led him downstairs. They both caught their breath as they walked into the apartment.

"Wow…" Buffy trailed off. "They did a great job".

Spike could only agree. Joyce had taken both of their tastes and combined them to make a sanctuary that was warm and inviting.

"Feels like home, doesn't it?" his girl said. "It'll be a shame to have to leave in only a few weeks".

"We'll make ourselves a home in Sunnydale too, pet. Where ever you are, that's home".

"This from the man who was trying to abandon me," she pouted, and Spike felt his heart drop.

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time," he muttered. And it had. He'd thought he'd been doing the right thing, setting Buffy free of a monster like him, ignoring the selfish part of him that wanted her as a balm to soothe his wounded… soul.

Even now, the thought gave him a start. His soul. Of which having still didn't help him make the right bloody choice. Buffy had managed to make him see that setting her free was _not_ what she wanted or needed, and he was glad of it, selfish git that he was. No matter that Buffy said he didn't need it anymore, the soul… it made a difference, no doubt about it.

Whatever Spike had claimed about no longer being evil pre-soul, it had been a veneer only. He understood now the disparity between not-evil and _good_, understood that while he would never injure the ones he loved, now he didn't want to harm anybody else either. Not just would _refrain _from hurting others for the sake of the approval of the Summers' women, but didn't _want_ to prey upon the seething masses of humanity around him.

Humans had ceased to be nothing more than Happy Meals on legs.

For the freshly-souled vampire, avoiding evil was no longer based on a half-formed logical conclusion – he'd learnt it was wrong in Sunday school – or – Buffy would be disappointed – but a certainty in his gut that such an action would harm him even more than his victim, that he would be as disappointed in himself as Buffy would.

After 120 years of doing as he pleased, it was terrifying. He hadn't quite understood just what he was getting himself into. Spike figured he could have muddled by without the soul, done alright, but he'd wanted more than that. She'd come back to him, come back from beyond his reach, and he'd wanted to be a man worthy of her – with the potential to be as good and pure as she was, his tarnished past notwithstanding. Only now that he had a soul, he realized just how preposterous that idea was.

He might have quit evil, but he would never, ever, be worthy of her.

Lost in thought as he settled heavily onto the couch, he didn't notice Buffy going to the fridge and pulling out a bag of blood, pouring it into a mug and setting it in the microwave. When it dinged she brought it to where he was sitting on the couch. "Ninety-eight point six," she told him, settling herself into his lap. "Just the way you like it".

She was determined to care for him, love him, and it made him tremble with the force of his love for her. "I don't understand what I ever did to deserve you".

"Spike. You got a soul – and went through hell to do it. So, well, there's that, for starters".

Unable to speak, he set the mug aside and wrapped his arms around her, his emotions overwhelming him. He let go of everything he was feeling, until all there was was the scent of his girl and the sound of her heartbeat lulling him into a sense of calm. Buffy wrapped her own arms around him, and the two stayed like that until Joyce came to the door to call them for dinner.


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Notes: **Love reviews and opinions!

These characters all belong to Joss Whedon, not me, sadly.

* * *

The Thanksgiving meal had been a cheerful yet quiet affair, everyone reigning themselves in to preserve a sense of peace and harmony for Spike, who would experience moments of wild-eyed panic and confusion until Buffy's touch re-centered him.

"I'm so glad you guys could all come," Buffy told her friends later that evening, when the dishes were cleared and they were all sprawled about the living room, bellies full, talking softly. Spike sat at her feet with his chin on her knees, her hand threading the hair on the nape of his neck. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you".

"But you'll be back soon, Buff. And staying with us while you go apartment hunting, right?" Xander asked.

"Yeah. Back to school… it seems so overwhelming".

"You'll be brilliant, luv," Spike rumbled soothingly. She smiled at him. Even amidst his pain, he still put her concerns first.

"And back to the patrolling. And the research parties. I actually miss those," Anya added. "Even though they don't provide me with either capital gains or orgasms".

Joyce coughed.

"Well, here's something else equally interesting!" Anya said perkily. "Tell them, Xander!"

All eyes turned to him and he ducked his head, blushing, then looked at Anya, brown eyes full of love. "Yeah. So. Anya – there's nobody like her. And… and we're getting married!"

Buffy added her congratulations to the flurry of others, squeezing Spike's hand as he did the same with obvious sincerity. "You 'n demon girl will be perfect together, Harris," he said.

She watched him as Xander replied, "We're only hoping to be half as meant for each other as you and Buffy obviously are". Spike smiled bashfully and turned to her with such a look of contentment that she knew everything was going to be okay. The guilt would still be there, but he was going to learn how to handle it.

So when Spike whispered in her ear, "'M all tapped out, pet. Need to head downstairs, but you stay with your pals, yeah?" she didn't argue.

Instead she only whispered back, "Thanks, baby. But you give me a call if you need me and I'll come running, 'kay?"

He gave her a nod and slipped out, Buffy watching his back until he was gone. Then she turned back to her friends.

"So when's the wedding?"

"Next summer," Anya bubbled. "And you're all going to be bridesmaids, although maybe Dawn could be a flower girl. And…"

Buffy tuned out as Anya let out all the excitement she'd obviously been holding in for quite some time. Her mom noticed and came to sit beside her. "Do you wish you'd had a proper wedding with Spike, honey?" she asked. "Because we could do that. Have another one. Nothing big, just, a reaffirmation ceremony or something…"

Buffy considered. Their 'wedding', spell-induced or not, had actually been perfect for them. Sure, she'd always dreamed of a fancy wedding, like any little girl, but… with Spike, what they'd had was exactly right.

Still, everyone else had missed out, including her mom. And it had been so long ago, years before they'd actually become a couple.

On the other hand…

"I don't want to steal Anya's limelight," she said softly, watching the ex-demon glow.

"Think about it. Just something simple, maybe at Christmas, so you wouldn't be taking away from their big day," her mom said. "And you could get presents," she added with a twinkle in her eye.

Buffy responded with enthusiasm. "Oooh, I didn't think about that! I'll have to ask Spike though". She turned her attention fully to her mom. "Does it bother you that I can't have a real wedding? Since Spike's kinda not a legal person and all?"

"No, darling. I've known William too long to care about anything like that anymore. I see how much he loves you, and that's all that matters to a mother".

Buffy squeezed her hand and turned her attention back to the still-gushing Anya, an idea forming in her mind.

* * *

"Scoobies all settled in for the night?" Spike asked when she slipped back downstairs. He was sitting quietly on the leather couch, watching the flames flicker in the tiny fireplace.

"Mmm-hmmm," she answered, sliding herself onto his lap and wrapping her arms around him. "You okay?"

Closing his eyes and resting his head on hers, he replied, "Been better. Been worse. Better now, though".

She inhaled his scent, relief bubbling up that he was home, safe and – well, almost sound. "Definitely better," he added as she let her hands creep under his shirt to caress his chest, needing to feel more of him.

"So, um, I was thinking…" She wasn't sure how to continue. Normally, she knew he'd be all over the idea she had. But he'd been through so much, changed himself in ways they had yet to comprehend, and she might be asking more than he could handle. "Um. Our anniversary is in a few days. And I was hoping we could do something to celebrate it. Since we didn't last year".

"You told me it didn't mean anything to you, pet". Even now, she could hear the hurt in his voice.

"Well, I lied, 'cause – kinda mad at you then. It did. Does. A lot. I know… I know it was a spell, and we've kinda had a rough start, but I was hoping we could…" She had a hard time continuing.

"Could what, sweetheart?"

"I know you're not at your best, so if you want to say no I'll totally understand, but Mom said something that got me to thinking- "

He interrupted her, moving his head so he could look her in the eyes. "Spit it out, woman".

Buffy gave him a tentative smile. "I was hoping we could do something with everyone. Have, like, a small ceremony and reaffirm our vows". When he didn't say anything, she began to babble. "Of course it's a stupid idea, and you wouldn't want that anyways…"

He cut her off with a desperate kiss, devouring her like a drowning man.

"Does that mean you want to?" she asked nervously when he let her up for air.

"Make my vows in front of your family and mates? Yes. Want them all to know what you mean to me".

"I think they already do," she smiled softly. "But, yeah, I like that idea. And, well," she added lightly, "Mom did mention presents".

Spike grinned affectionately at her. "Ah. That's the real reason, I take it".

"It is. I never turn down presents".

"Greedy little thing," he smirked, kissing her again, one hand curled possessively around her narrow waist.

When he stopped, Buffy asked, "Are you… can I…?" She trailed off, blushing, but he didn't come to her rescue. "I don't want you to do anything you aren't ready for. But I've missed you so. I want to show you how much. How much I love you".

He kissed her fingers. "Your touch could only ever heal me, luv. As much as I know I'll never deserve it, I need you Buffy. Want you desperately". He held her hand against his cheek.

"Not as much as I need you".

"Show me?"

She did.

* * *

The redhead swallowed nervously. "I can't believe you talked me into doing this. There's no way I should be doing this. It's too much like public speaking, and you know how I get in front of crowds".

"Come on, Wills, it's not that big a deal. It's only the gang. Besides, it's kinda like penance for doing it to us the first time around".

"But I'm not ordained or anything. I can't marry you guys".

"Willow!" Buffy said in exasperation. "_Nobody_ can marry us. Spike doesn't even exist. Now, buck up. And – do I look alright?" she asked with one more glance in the mirror.

The witch bit her lip, fighting a rush of emotion. "I've never seen you more radiant," she said with an impulsive hug of her best friend.

When they let go of each other, Buffy patted her hair nervously then smoothed down the simple pale blue dress she was wearing. "Okay then. Let's do this," she said with a decisive nod. She followed Willow down the stairs and stopped at the back door as her friend continued through.

"Buffy. You look beautiful," Giles said warmly. "I may be a sentimental old fool for saying it, but I am so proud that you have blessed me with this honor".

She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she had clutched in her hand. "No making me cry until after".

He chuckled. "Of course, my dear". They looked at the back yard through the open door. "The yard looks lovely. Your mother certainly transformed it, and last minute at that".

The only place Buffy had allowed her mother to deviate from 'simple' was with the decorations. The yard was filled to bursting with flowers and fountains, but the effect was beautiful rather than gaudy. "She's been planning this moment for twenty-one years. I had to let her have it".

Her eyes turned to Willow, standing nervously against the tall wooden fence covered in ivy, and a lump formed in her throat as Spike stepped to take his place in front of her friend, exuding just as much nervousness as the girl he stood next to. _Silly_, she thought. _Like we don't already consider ourselves married_. But she was just as edgy too, seeing the insanely gorgeous man waiting for her in the afternoon sun, wearing a tux as though it were a second skin to him.

_Mmm, wedding night…_ she thought, and then subtly wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. The first time had been amazing, but this time… well, she had plans. And lingerie. And her own free will. And a little more know-how.

Tara looked to Buffy, who nodded, and she began to sing, her sweet voice filling the air. "I do believe that's our cue," Giles said, offering Buffy his arm. Together, the two of them traversed the short distance between the back door and the fence, Buffy's mouth going drier and drier until she stood next to a twitchy Spike, Giles taking her hand and placing it in the vampire's. Her surrogate father rested his hand on Spike's shoulder for a moment, giving him a squeeze and a smile. He then turned and sat on a folding chair next to Joyce, Dawn on the other side of him, Anya and Xander behind them.

Dawn sprung up as Tara finished her song, tugging a small basket out from under her chair. "Hold on," she whispered, and then she spread rose petals around the bride and groom in a lop-sided approximation of a heart.

Buffy gave her a watery smile, and sniffed not-so-subtly as she saw Spike blinking back his own tears. To think the vile creature she'd once loathed was more of a romantic than her… She squeezed his cool hand and he squeezed hers in turn, his sapphire eyes blazing with the depth of his feeling, stealing her breath away.

God, it was silly, all this emotion running through her. It wasn't a real wedding. It didn't really matter. Except – it did. It was everything she thought she'd never have – love so deep he defied his very nature for her, and the approval of all those closest to her as well. Nobody could fault her for giving into her girlish urges to declare this the happiest day of her life.

Willow sucked in a deep breath and then, with a steadying glance at Tara, began to speak.

"So, we're here to celebrate the union of Buffy Summers and William Pratt, which, as we all know, happened two years ago because I, uh…" She gathered herself in. "Because I accidentally forced them to get married. And even though it hadn't been their idea, it was still an event that meant a lot to the both of them. Unfortunately, the timing wasn't quite right and they weren't able to experience wedded bliss, but what they had was strong enough to overcome the obstacles they faced, until they could stand here before us today – in love, ready to renew their vows and able to honor them fully". Willow blushed at the end of her speech, but Buffy beamed at her, letting her know it was perfect.

"I changed mine a little," Buffy told Spike softly when Willow asked them to make their vows. "You're not the same man as two years ago, and I thought I should update. I – I hope that's ok?"

"Changed mine a touch too," he replied just as softly.

Buffy looked out at her friends and family, feeling a momentary twinge that there was nobody there for Spike. She'd asked him who he'd want present, even suggesting they could do it at night to accommodate any guests he might like to invite, but he'd only shrugged and said that everybody he cared about was either dead or already invited. It had saddened her to know how alone he'd been, this man who, underneath the demon and bloodlust, so obviously craved love and acceptance. She was grateful that despite the violent history he shared with them, her friends and family had indeed come to love Spike as she'd once sworn they would, two years ago.

She raised her voice as she spoke in front of her loved ones now. "I, Buffy Anne Summers, promise to take you, William Harrison Pratt, as my husband. I promise to love you and to cherish you. To understand who you have been and who you have made yourself into. To guide you if you need it, but never control you. I promise to temper everything I say and do with love, to always believe in you, and to never abandon you. I promise to love you with my body and mind, heart and soul, for all of eternity".

She didn't think his eyes could get more intense, but they did, the melancholy that resided there these days waning to be replaced with fierce devotion. With an air of solemnity he spoke his own vows. "I, William Harrison Pratt," he began, leaving out 'the Bloody' this time, "promise to take you, Buffy Anne Summers, as my wife. I promise to honor and obey you as I promise to love you and cherish you. I promise to continue to renounce my evil ways and strive to be a man worthy of your love. I promise to make amends for my past. I promise to spend every waking minute devoted to your happiness and to protect you with everything that I am. I promise to love you with my body, heart, mind, and newly-returned soul for the rest of eternity".

Willow was wiping at her eyes. "Jeez you guys… So, with absolutely no power whatsoever, legal or mystical, I re-declare you man and wife. Spike, the ring?" He obliged, slipping the ring she'd earlier removed back into place. "And now you may kiss… or, yeah. Just like that," she finished with a breathy laugh as the vampire proceeded to thoroughly kiss the woman in his embrace.

Buffy felt his arms tighten around her as her knees grew too weak to support herself, forgetting to care about the spectacle she was probably making as she eagerly kissed him back.

And then there was cheering and clapping and congratulations.

Later, after the cake, Xander pulled them aside and said with air of despair, "Do you guys know what you've done to me? Now Anya expects me to come up with my own vows too – and I know there's no way I can top yours".

Leaning into Spike's embrace, Buffy replied, "Don't worry Xander, it will come to you. You know me and words – not so mixy, but… and… that's as clear as I'm ever going to get!" she finished with a blush. "So see, you'll be inspired by the moment".

"'M very inspiring," Spike added with a smirk, pulling her closer, and Buffy melted into him, forgetting her surroundings once more.

"This'll get her attention," she heard Dawn say. "Hey! Time to watch them open presents!"

Buffy wrenched her lips away from Spike's. "Honey. Get off me".

He blinked at the sudden loss of her lips. "Oi. I see how it is. Get a ring on your finger and you forget all about the bloke who put it there," he pouted, wounded.

"Oh, baby," Buffy turned back, ready to soothe his injured pride, only to see a teasing grin. "You're incorrigible," she said with a roll of her eyes, and turned back to her friends once more.

From Dawn came a photo album filled with pictures of the two of them, together or separate, taken over the last few years. Buffy thanked her profusely, already treasuring the candid shots of Spike.

Willow and Tara presented the couple with an assortment of lotions and candles, magically enchanted. Buffy began to read some of the descriptions out loud, until she realized that many of the items in the box were meant to be used in a… well, erotic fashion. She abruptly halted, stammering her thanks while Spike gave the witches a lascivious wink.

The gift from Anya and Xander followed a more traditional route, being a gift card to the local department store to purchase whatever housewares they might need.

"Oh, Mom!" Buffy gushed when she realized what Joyce's present was. "Grandma's china? And silverware?"

"It's in anticipation of the many fine dinners I'm sure you'll be serving me when I come to visit," Joyce smiled.

"And by that, you mean, I'll serve but Spike will cook, right?"

"Well…"

"S'okay, Joyce. Buffy's quite happy to admit her talents lie elsewhere".

She frowned a little at that. Where did her talents lie, other than killing things? Even Spike was better at being domestic than her. She shook off the upsetting thought for later, turning instead to Giles, who was holding out an envelope.

"I know you intend to repay me for the expenses associated with going to Africa. However, it hasn't escaped my attention that we wouldn't be gathered here today, at this celebration, if you hadn't made that trip. I'm sure you realize that in my heart you are like a daughter to me… and now a son as well," he said with a nod to Spike. Buffy giggled as Spike protested being a son to someone decades younger than him, but good-naturedly, and Giles smiled indulgently. "I know this doesn't come with shiny paper and bows, but I hope you won't mind. I would like you to consider all debts repaid as my wedding gift to you".

Buffy pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to hold back the tears that had threatened earlier. Giles' generosity overwhelmed her. The cost of the trip – two last minute tickets there and three back – had been huge, and she had sworn to repay him every dime, no matter how long it took. The concern over how had been lurking in the back of her mind since then, and she felt like a weight had been lifted.

"Giles…" she murmured into his chest through the hug she'd engulfed him in. "You're so… I love you so much".

She watched Spike's brow crinkle as he processed the information. Buffy hadn't said a thing to him about the promise to repay Giles, not wanting to burden him more or add to the broodiness he refused to admit to. He caught on quickly though, and after a severe look at her for holding out on him, he clasped Giles' hand and shook it, thanking him as well.

Giles, for his part, could only gasp until the Slayer released him. "Oops?" she coughed sheepishly.

As the afternoon faded into evening, the others began to prepare to leave. "I wish we didn't have to go…" Willow said, "but school… and work…"

"I'm just grateful you could come back again so soon after Thanksgiving." Buffy went to each of her friends in turn. "You guys are the best… you being here made this day complete".

Spike stood awkwardly in the background until Xander approached him, shaking his hand firmly. "Never thought I'd say this to you, and especially never thought I'd mean it, but… congratulations, man. Welcome to the family".

Tongue-tied, the best Spike could do was a simple, "Thank you," and then each of the girls hugged him, leaving him more and more flustered. Buffy smiled fondly at him as he ran his hand distractedly through his hair, mussing up the careful job he'd done of gelling it down.

She sidled up to her mother, still watching Spike say goodbye to the others, and said, "Mom, I don't even have words – this was beautiful. And I hope you don't think I'm ungrateful but – I think Spike and I need to leave. _Right now_," she added as his eyes caught hers.

"Go on, honey. I wouldn't be spending any time with us old fuddy-duddies either if I had that waiting for me".

"Mom!" she blushed furiously as her mother laughed.

"Go, Buffy. Go see to your man".

But she was already gone.


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's Notes:**

Hmm, it seems that angst inspires more reviews than schmoop. It's almost like you guys _want_ me to make you cry! 'Cause I can do that... (evil grin). Hmmm... to have a happy ending or not...

* * *

She had no idea what time it was. It could have been next week or only an hour later since they'd left the backyard. All she knew was…

_Wow_.

And he was hers for eternity.

* * *

They hadn't talked since they'd returned from Africa, not really. It had been a week, ten days, of quiet reflection and _notbrooding_, of crying jags and soulful healing touches.

And then shagging like lustful, love-starved, just-married rabbits.

He was okay with that part, more than okay. Even if it had felt like nothing more than paper wrapping at times, unreal and undeserved. As if a filthy creature like him could put on airs and pretend to be what he was not.

But Buffy, his golden goddess, was pleased with him, with his return to her side, with his attentions to her in bed. And if she was pleased, how could he not be for her sake? He could push aside the pain and the anguish, the sense of wrongness he felt about himself, and exist in her love for a little while. It was enough.

And really, this having a sodding soul, it didn't change who he was. What he'd done. He couldn't ever take it back. The poet in him might lament all the evil he'd done, want to _notbrood_ about it, but the pragmatist – the part of him that still, even through his self-loathing, loved life – that part of him realized that it was time to suck it up and be a bleeding man. Not an echo of the Giant Forehead-ridden Poof.

Didn't mean he wasn't still prone to… reflection. A tenderness towards all of humanity that was new. Or, perhaps, renewed. A sense of caution that had evaded him for decades. Underneath it was still the demon, the blasted creature that had hurt the woman he loved, more than once. But it was repressed now, held back even more than it had been before the soul, when it had only been by sheer force of his will. He was no longer ruled by his lust for blood and sex and violence, no longer dominated by rage and unbridled need. It was still there, but muted. And that was what mattered.

She'd died because of his demonic nature. He'd hurt her in other ways too, but her death and painful resurrection had been what had pushed him over the edge, made him understand that, _yes_, he did need a soul to be a man, a man worthy of the Slayer, and he'd done what he had to do to make sure it would never happen again.

The tormenting guilt he felt for everything else as well was no more than what he deserved.

He snuck out of their marital bed to fix himself a meal, something he'd only done while she was asleep since he'd returned with his shiny new soul. Maybe she didn't care anymore, but he did. He didn't need to see the reminder in her eyes of what he was.

No need for misunderstanding his feelings on the matter – he might say he wanted to be a man, but he didn't fancy being human really. He was right fond of the strength and power at his command, despite the unsavory need for blood that came with it. He was simply adjusting to being so very conflicted about his nature, something he'd never once been since he'd been turned, not even after falling in love with the Slayer.

Spike took his mug and sat on the couch, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace and _notbrooding_ like he did so frequently.

He hadn't spoken much since they'd returned, between the force of his own bouts of crazy and not wanting to ruin her adorable enthusiasm for the special day they'd just had. But now, he knew he needed to talk to her, get things sorted. Amid her return from death and then demonic stint, followed by the move and his leaving for a soul, they hadn't ever really discussed just what they were to each other or where they were going.

He knew she considered them married, in spirit if not in name, and where they were going was no doubt Sunnydale so Buffy could return to her duties and classes, but… was she expecting him to be her sidekick? Househusband? Wage-earner? His role was undefined and it left him anxious.

It was all very well to be passionately in love, but fantastic shag-a-thons were not all there was to a married relationship, even Spike understood that. She'd hidden the debt she'd taken on from him, though there was no questioning the why of it. He hadn't exactly been prepared for such a topic these last few days, and he was sure she would have told him eventually, but he was ready to set everything straight now. Make sure there was nothing else left unspoken that shouldn't be.

Finished with his meal and his thoughts, Spike climbed back into bed, kissing Buffy's shoulder as she rolled into him, mewing sleepily.

* * *

Stretching languorously, Buffy slowly opened her eyes. She was sore all over, but it was a good kind of sore. A my-husband-just-gave-me-the-best-night-of-my-life kind of sore. Her eyes trailed the sleeping form of said husband, and she couldn't help but press her lips to his cheek. His face was soft and boyish in sleep, the worry lines that had creased it since she'd found him in Africa nowhere to be seen.

Buffy contemplated him, wondering how much he had actually come to terms with his newfound conscience, and how much of his calm façade was just for show. There was a spark that was missing from him now, that devil-may-care zest for life that he'd always had, along with his self-confident swagger and arrogant, aggravating smirk. He put up a good front, but she could see how haunted his eyes were when he thought she wasn't looking. She only hoped that the comfort she offered him was helping and not hurting him more. He wasn't quite as willing to talk as he'd once been, wasn't telling her everything, but she got it. She'd been there herself not so long ago.

She'd put off really talking to him, giving him time with his thoughts while she focused instead on their celebration, which had seemed more and more important to her as the thought grew in her mind. It was time now, though, to draw him out from the shell he'd encased himself in.

Buffy got up and fixed herself a bowl of cereal, surprised to see it was already past noon, then freshened up and returned to bed, watching Spike as he slept through the early afternoon. Now and then, he'd tense and flail, and each time she wouldn't have to do more than smooth his brow before he settled down, once more as still as a corpse.

When the filtered light coming in through the closed curtains began to dim, she pulled away the sheet that was draped over his midsection, rolling her eyes when she saw Spike was already half-erect. At least having a soul hadn't changed that part of him. Stroking him until he was fully engorged, she scootched down, engulfing him in her mouth. She could tell the moment he awoke, from the way his body tensed and then relaxed. His hands crept into her hair.

"Like this?" she asked around him.

"Think 've died and gone to heaven, waking to your hot little mouth on me".

Buffy hummed contentedly. He'd told her he'd be happy to indulge any of her fantasies, and waking him this way had been one of them. Not that it was terribly kinky, but it wasn't like she was a girl with much experience. Each new sexual experiment with Spike was kinky to her. She rather liked it that way.

When she could sense he was close, she squeezed his balls gently, rolling them in her hand, and he came with a shout, his grip on her hair bordering on painful. After he released her, she moved back up his body to lie in his embrace. "Morning, husband," she said, a thrill running through her at those words.

"Mmm. Think we should get married more often. Like this, having nothing other to do than love your sweet body".

"It is nice isn't it?" Buffy replied with a satisfied smile. "What about… talking? Is that okay too?" she asked softly, trying to ease into a conversation.

"Love talking to you, pet. You know that".

"Okay. Good. 'Cause, I think we've got some things to talk about. Not – not in a bad way or anything, but-"

"Shh, luv. I was thinking the same earlier".

"Earlier? When I was…? Was it not good?" she asked, crestfallen.

"Bloody hell, Buffy. Could barely remember my name then, never mind wanting to talk about anything serious. Silly chit," he murmured affectionately. "I meant _earlier_ earlier".

Relief coursed through her. "Oh. Good. 'Cause that wouldn't do much for the self-confidence," she laughed shakily.

"Nothing for you to worry about there, sweetheart. I don't think I've made it clear enough to you. Everything you do to me, for me, with me – it's like nothing I've ever experienced. Nothing holds a candle to you".

"You're exaggerating".

"No, 'm a man desperately in love. Much better".

She snuggled into him, sighing. "It is. I love you so much. Which is why… we should talk". She pressed a kiss to his chest. "But maybe you should start. Tell me how you're doing. Really".

"I think I'm okay. Or, I will be. If I had to do this on my own… my sympathies to Angel, I can understand what the wanker was going through". Spike closed his eyes and Buffy waited, sensing he wasn't done.

"The thing is, the soul makes me think about the past, and the future. Demon was perfectly content to live in the present. I… I'm not going to sit around and brood 'bout what I've done. Hurts, plenty, but… Can't change it, no point in boohooing it. Best I can do is play the White Hat and make amends that way. The thing I worry 'bout is the future. I – this is new to me. I feel like I should have some kind of plan. Goal. Maybe even… a _mission_, much as it disgusts me to sound like his Broodiness. And I don't know how that fits in with what you want, because truth be told, luv, I'm not sure what you want from me besides a good time".

"Ouch," Buffy protested.

"Ah, no, don't take it that way. Just me running off at the mouth. I meant I know how to take care of you on that front. But what else am I to you? We're playing at married, so… do you expect me to bring home the dosh? Mow the yard? Cook and clean? I haven't much to offer you in a traditional sense. 'M not sure what my role is. This is all new to us".

She pulled away from him so she could look him in the eye. "First, you better understand we're not playing at married. I know it's not legal or whatever, but… You. Are my husband. Got it, buddy?"

Spike nodded contritely, a little half-smile on his face.

"Second, your role is whatever you want it to be. You're not my slave or anything else. You're my partner. My equal. So, if you want a mission, then that's what your role is. I just… I just hope it's in Sunnydale, because that's where my mission in. Although… the Council still doesn't know about me being back, so I guess we could go somewhere else if you wanted to…"

* * *

Spike stared at her in wonder. She would do whatever he decided? That was too much responsibility on him. He shook his head quickly. "No, pet, enough trouble at the Hellmouth for two of us. And you've got your school to get back to".

"I don't have to go," she shrugged.

He frowned. "Yes, you do. Know it's important to you, not going to keep you from that".

"I don't know… it's not like… I've been thinking about this. I've already outlived my expiration date. Or out-resurrected it, I guess. It was silly of me to ever think I could be a normal girl. What good is college going to do me? Maybe I should just focus on my calling, especially now that I'm so strong. Really focus on my own mission. It's what I'm good at, what I'm meant for".

He cocked his head, studying her. There was something she wasn't saying.

"What is it?" he asked gently. She didn't answer. "Buffy. I love you. Nothing you say to me could change that. Tell me what's wrong". She tried to curl in on herself, but he didn't let her.

Sighing, she said, "It's not like I'm good at anything else. I'm dumb at school stuff. And I can't do any _wifely_ things like cook or keep house. Even my own mother would rather have a vampire cook for her than have me do it. I can't even drive a car. It's… well, it's discouraging. I'm not good at anything but killing things. Even you have more going for you than that. No offense," she added quickly. "Just – you know, you're a vampire. Shouldn't I be better at real life than you?"

His poor girl. "Buffy, sweetheart. You aren't failing at life. You're still so young. You can't expect to be accomplished at every little thing, when your Slaying duties have been getting in the way of what you call real life. You got into college didn't you? Can't be that dumb. And it took me 150 years to learn how to cook. So give yourself a little credit, yeah?" He kissed her brow. "There's nothing wrong with wanting more than you're supposed to have. You want to be more than just the Slayer, good on you. I wanted more than what I was supposed to have – and look. Got me you, didn't it? 'M the poster child for reaching beyond your limits, and you are too. No other Slayer like you. No other _woman_ like you. S'why I love you so much".

She was snuffling against him. "Yeah, you're right. Okay, that's good. I can… But! Oh!" She sat up again. "I'm supposed to be helping you feel better, not making it about me!"

"How can I be happy if you're hurting? Foolish girl". He stroked her hair. "Tell me, luv. What do you want? What do you want besides being the Slayer?"

"I… I don't know, really. I mean, I want to get a degree, but I have no idea in what. And…I want to, you know, learn to keep house a bit better I guess. Maybe you could teach me to drive?"

"Whatever you need. We'll take it one step at a time. There's no rush. You've got your whole life".

"No, I don't. I'm not going to live long".

"You listen to me, Buffy. You will. You were the best Slayer the world had ever known before you died – and now you're stronger than ever. You've got your mates to help, and now me by your side. If you think, for one instant, that I will _ever_ let you die again-"

"Okay, okay!" she gave in with a breathless laugh. "Long life, got it. Or at least, a few more years". She smiled at him. "So, we're still a go with moving back to Sunnydale and me going to college. We patrol at night, save the world, and come home and celebrate our success with some good-quality loving. What about the rest of it? What else do you want?"

He shrugged. "Could get a job".

"A – a job? You?" she replied incredulously.

"Did it before, in Sunnydale, when I had that flat. How'd you think I was paying for things?"

"Was trying not to think about it, honestly. What kind of job?"

"Muscle, mostly. 'M strong. Invulnerable. Pass for human. Makes it easy to get work, good-paying work too".

"Work that your conscience will be okay with?"

"Yeah, no worries there".

She frowned. "I don't want you thinking you have to support me. I mean, I could get a job. And I have loans and a small amount of scholarship money…"

"Would make me happy, luv, to take care of you. My girl shouldn't worry about that if I can do it".

"This is going to sound petty, but… just another thing you're better at than me".

Spike shook his head. "No, Buffy. You could do the exact same work – but you've got something more important to worry about – your schooling. Let me do this for you, okay? Let me take care of you".

"That's really what you want?"

"Funny enough, it is".

"You're so weird".

"But you love me".

"Yeah. I do. I really, really do".

Spike's eyes filled with tears at her declaration, and she wiped them away. "Aren't we a silly pair?"

"Happy, though, yeah?"

"God, yes. Never knew I could be this happy". She kissed him softly. "And you? Are you happy?"

"Happy as can be".

"Do you want to talk more about – you know? Will you tell me about your past? It might help".

"Not yet, luv. I will though, I promise. Need more time on my own with it first".

"Okay. But – I'm here for you. Like you always are for me".

He gave her an acknowledging kiss, and they fell silent for awhile. "So we're sorted, then?" Spike asked after a time.

"Yup. We're going to be a regular all-American couple. You know, minus the fact that you're a walking corpse and we're going to be spending our evenings killing things that shouldn't exist".

"You're pretty spry for a corpse yourself, pet. And don't forget the incredible shagging after. Know nobody else is going to be having the fun you're having".

"Well, they better not be. I'd be jealous". Buffy licked her lips. "But 'til then, the only thing we need to worry about today is…"

"The incredible shagging?"

"That's my man".

"Think we should come up for air? Say hello to the others?"

"I don't think they expect to see us for days. Now, about this incredible shagging. Why don't you show me how it's going to work".


	54. Chapter 54

**Author's Notes:**

I was just teasing, the ending's a done deal. No changing it based on reviews (but I still love reading them!). Although, if I was going to majorly overhaul anything, it would probably be to break up all this happiness and communication a little sooner. Luckily for our heroes I'm not rewriting this chapter...

* * *

The demon they were fighting let out a mighty bellow when Buffy caught it in a headlock, ready to snap its neck.

"Wait, pet, hold it a mite longer," Spike shouted, rushing to her side. "Lemme just… ah here," he said in satisfaction. "Go ahead now".

She twisted hard and let the body fall. Before it even touched the ground, it evaporated into thin air. "Well that was cool," she exclaimed.

"Yeah, but not as neat as this," Spike grinned, holding up a pouch for her to see. "Mercenaries," he said by way of explanation. "Figured he might have a bit of…"

"Diamonds?" she gasped as she gazed into the small black pouch.

"Was going to say gold, but diamonds will do," Spike replied, bemused. "Wonder what the Governor wanted him for?" he asked aloud, his eyes narrowed in consideration. "Think it's something my conscience would twinge over?"

"I have a feeling yes," Buffy answered.

"Shame. If I took the job, we could end up with two of these," he said, jiggling the bag in the palm of his hand.

"We can't keep that! Can we?" she frowned. "It's like blood money. Blood diamonds".

Spike shrugged. "Not like we have anybody to return them to. Can always give 'em to charity, I guess".

"How much do you think…?"

"Couple thou, maybe. Not worth a lot, but nothing to sneeze at. Would help out with those student loans of yours".

Buffy eyed the bag. "Angel charges for his services…"

"Pillock," Spike muttered reflexively. "Not like you charge, though, is it? More like a bonus. For a job well done".

"You think it's right?"

Spike smiled in surprise. "You're asking me?"

"Well, duh. Didn't I just?"

"Yeah, Buffy. I think there's nothing wrong with keeping these. Just a perk of the job. Done it myself plenty of times, emptied the pockets of demons".

"Huh. How come I never thought of that before?"

"Too busy with the vanquishing, I suspect, to worry 'bout robbing them first".

"Well, now I am. You're a bad influence on me".

Spike made a disgusted noise. "Not bad to steal from the bad guys. Be like Robin Hood, wouldn't it?"

"Except for the steal from the evil and give to the me part of it".

"Told you, give it to a sodding charity if it bothers you so much".

Buffy slipped her hand in his. "No, I think you're right. I just need to consider it for a bit. Make sure it feels okay to me". They began to walk home through the dark, chilly night. "That was fun, wasn't it? We haven't seen much action in Sacramento".

"Nothing the two of us couldn't handle, that's for sure".

"Mmmm. I think I'll actually be happy to get back to the Hellmouth. Not that this hasn't been a nice interlude, but… without the slaying, there's only so much I can do to burn all this energy I have". She smiled playfully. "And we've already had to replace the bedframe twice in a month. Probably should give it a break".

Spike backed her up against a tree. "If you insist, Slayer".

* * *

"And the kitchen was so sweet," Buffy gushed. She'd been gushing non-stop over the flat they'd picked out, the whole drive back from Sunnydale to Sacramento.

"T'was," he agreed absently, amused by her enthusiasm. She was worked up over the idea of having her own place with him. Of being a grown-up, she'd said. It was times like this that Spike remembered how much longer he'd been alive than she had.

Buffy eventually fell quiet, leaning against him sleepily, soothed by the rumble of the car's engine. Spike smiled to himself as he pulled her closer. He'd never known happiness like this before. With Drusilla, he'd been excited, exhilarated, amused and more, but never this feeling of quiet contentment, that all was right with his world. Even with the guilt he'd been experiencing, he couldn't imagine his unlife being more perfect. So what if he'd had to wait 150 years to be truly happy. It was worth it.

He gave a sardonic chuckle. It was a good thing _his_ soul wasn't a curse, else he'd have lost it a hundred times over by now.

* * *

"At the risk of ruining our moment of bliss, can I ask you something?"

Spike tensed slightly, intuiting that it would be nothing good, but he nevertheless answered, "Of course, kitten".

She shifted in his arms where they were curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, watching the flames burn while the Christmas lights adorning the mantle winked softly.

"You said, before, when we were having our wedding thing-y, that everybody you loved was either there or dead. And I've been wondering… what happened to Drusilla?"

He closed his eyes, repressing the rush of pain he still felt at the memory of what he'd done. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want her there, pet".

"No. Of course not. I just… you were with her so long, surely you must wonder about her?"

"Don't need to wonder". He swallowed, then made himself say it. "I killed her".

"Oh!" Buffy moved to look up at him, her eyes wide. "Spike, I'm so sorry. When?"

"You're sorry?" he asked, confused.

"Well, not for her. But for you. I mean, I know you loved her. You were together for… geez, for five of my lifetimes. That's major. It must have been awful".

"You're bloody amazing, Buffy," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers, the guilt he felt over still mourning what he'd done to Drusilla suddenly melting away.

"I know," she teased. "Will you… can you talk about it?"

"You understand that what I felt for Dru is _nothing_ compared to you, yeah?"

"And same for me and Angel. Not the point though. It still nearly destroyed me to send him to hell".

"Get that". Spike pulled her closer, as close as he could be without being inside of her. "It was that night. When she showed up at the hotel in New York. She was going to go after you and I knew… as long as she was around, you'd never be safe from her. Couldn't let that happen".

Saying it out loud, the pain lessened. It had been the only choice, and he didn't regret making it one bit.

"You never told me," Buffy said quietly. "All that time I thought… well… and you never said a thing to me about it".

"Would it have mattered?"

"Then? I don't know if I would have got it. What a big deal it was. But it still would have mattered. I can't believe you've kept it to yourself all this time". She squeezed him. "I'm sorry, Spike, I really am".

* * *

Buffy sat with Dawn in the food court of the mall, the remains of their mid-shopping pitstop spread out before them.

"So there's really a spare bedroom?"

"Yup. You can come visit us whenever you want".

"Hmm. Is the bedroom right next to yours? 'Cause I'm thinking, I'd never get any sleep".

"Dawn!" Buffy squeaked.

"What? Sometimes I can hear you from upstairs. Two floors up".

Buffy blushed furiously, mortified. "Really?" she asked in embarrassment.

Dawn took pity on her. "It was just that one day when it was hot and you had your windows open. And I did too. But still. I don't think old Mrs. Marley is ever going to look at the two of you the same again".

"Good thing we're leaving next week," Buffy muttered. "I'll never be able to look her in the eye again".

"Yeah. Just remember that for your new neighbours. You guys are _loud_".

"Thanks for the tip," she replied sourly.

Dawn shrugged and stood, throwing the trash away. "Come on. I still need to get a Christmas present for Spike. What did you get him?"

Buffy smiled and walked beside her. "A long time ago, he told me about this poetry book he'd had before he was turned, how he'd never been able to find another copy of it. I found a copy. Or, well. Giles did, back in England".

Dawn cocked her head, studying her sister. "Wow. Sometimes you can be really tuned in".

With a frown, Buffy asked, "What do you mean?"

"Just – look at you, with the big sensitive present. Not the you I'm used to".

Her eyes grew distant, thoughtful. "I know. It's just… _he's_ like that, right? He makes me feel good when he sees what I need before I even do. Makes me want to try harder. I know I can be really self-centered, and I don't want to be around Spike". Her face grew softer. "He's always saying how I make him want to be a better man, but… he's making me a better person too".

Dawn interrupted her reverie. "You know you guys are setting me up for a lifetime of misery, don't you? My standards are too high now. I'll never find anybody who loves me as much as you two love each other".

Buffy came to with a startled glance at her sister. "Oh, Dawnie, don't say that. You're incredible. And some day – when you're very much older than you are now – you'll meet some guy who will sweep you off your feet. And you'll know he's the one when Spike doesn't go ballistic upon meeting him".

Dawn giggled. "Yeah. It's probably a good thing you guys are moving away. He scares all my dates off". She hesitated, then said, "So you guys are really good? All over the… past?"

Buffy gave her a sharp look. "I know you were into my diaries, peanut butter fingers. There were things in there…"

"Trust me, I'd blot them out of my mind if I could. But since I do already know everything that happened, you may as well talk to me. I – I love Spike too, you know. He was there for me when you were… gone. He's my… brother, I guess. And he's a long-haul kinda guy. You know that, right?"

She gave her not-so-little sister an appraising glance, and moved to sit on a nearby bench. "I do," Buffy agreed as Dawn sat beside her. "In the back of my mind, I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because, I'm happy, and that's just asking for trouble. There's a part of me that wants to hold back, so that when it does all go to hell I'm not crushed". She smiled wryly. "I'm like that. I pull back from people, expect to be on my own. But Spike's all in, and I have to make myself give him my everything in return. It's – he's good for me like that".

"Yeah. I get it". Dawn stood up abruptly. "Come on. I think I know what I want to get Spike now".

* * *

Buffy flopped back onto their bed with a huge sigh. "What was I thinking?" she wailed. "One week in and I already feel like I'm never going to catch up. I can't do college". She rolled over to look at Spike where he lay under the covers, sleepy and tousled. "Do you think I came back dumber?"

He smiled at her. "No, luv, I think you've been out of the game and it'll take a bit to settle back in". He pulled her bookbag towards him. "Now come on, let's get your homework done before we go patrol". He frowned at the biology textbook and set it aside, then held her history book aloft. "We'll have a go at this one".

Groaning, Buffy said, "Maybe we can do the stress-relief part first. Get me all non-stressy, and then I can be focus-y".

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "Much as I feel like the biggest poofter in history – no".

"No? What do you mean, no?"

"Because we've tried that for the last several days and that's why you're so far behind now. Homework first".

"Touchies first," Buffy pouted.

"Kitten…" Spike groaned.

"We'll set a time limit!" she promised. "Like ten… thirty minutes," she amended. "Then you can tie me down and make me do homework". She giggled at his face. "I lost you at tie me down, didn't I?"

"I… uh…" Spike shook his head. The idea of tying Buffy down was mixed in with all kinds of images in his head, memories mixed with remorse and desire. It wasn't somewhere he wanted to go with her, and he suspected that despite her light tone, she didn't either. "How 'bout this. We work for half an hour, then you get your thirty minutes if you've been a good girl".

"Meanie," Buffy stuck out her tongue, but she pulled her notebook out of her bag. "So the professor wants…"

Spike breathed an internal sigh of relief. He was supposed to be helping her get on with her life, not distracting her from it, but she made it hard to remember that when she so eagerly distracted herself.

He'd have to work harder at fitting himself back into human life. As a vampire, he'd spent his unlife doing whatever he wanted, in the pursuit of pleasure, and it was natural for him to fall back into that pattern. Sex, blood, violence, that was all that had mattered to him. Now he had to learn to care about homework and bills. It was a bit of a laugh, a vampire of his stature worrying about such mundane _human_ issues, but it was a nothing of a thing if it meant having Buffy by his side.

He focused on what she was saying, nodding his understanding of the assignment. _Pay attention, mate_. The faster they got done, the more time for 'touchies' they'd have.

All in all, not a bad plan.

* * *

"So there's… nothing? No Big Bad to go after?" Buffy frowned. They were having their first Scooby meeting in the Magic Box, and she paced nervously, feeling as out of place as she had at school.

Willow shrugged apologetically. "Hate to say it, but those Council goons kept a pretty tight lid on everything. Of course, it was just your run-of-the-mill baddies as far as we know. I bet there was no way they could have dealt with a real threat," she offered.

"A-and, we'd rather have you than them," Tara added. "They creeped me out".

Anya shuddered visibly. "They did. I cannot tell you how often I caught them watching me. It's almost as if they knew what I was".

"But… nothing Big Bad-y?" Buffy asked again, slightly distressed. Here she was thinking she had a mission, and poof – no threats to fight. Almost as if she wasn't needed after all.

"Welllll…" Xander trailed off. "There have been some strange things, but nothing that we could pinpoint as demonic. Bank robbery, museum robbery, things like that".

Spike frowned, sitting up from the slouch he'd been engaged in. "What was stolen from the museum?"

"Some kind of crystal," Willow answered. "But not something with mystical properties as far as we could tell. It might just be… well, regular thieves".

"On the Hellmouth?" Buffy asked dubiously. "Since I've got nothing better to do I may as well look into it, make sure. Tell me everything you know".

* * *

"Petty crime is the worst I have to worry about? Makes me miss the days when you were the Big Bad," Buffy grumbled as they patrolled.

"Oi now! Still the Big Bad!"

She dropped her eyes pointedly. "Big, yes," she smiled. "Bad, not so much".

"Way to stroke a vamp's ego, Slayer".

"Thought you liked it better when I stroked other things".

"'Ve created a monster," he muttered.

"Yup!" she replied cheerfully. "You did. And you know you're all proud of yourself, so quit your complaining". She bumped her shoulder against him. "I know you're a big softie under all that bleach and attitude".

"That's the last time I read you poetry when you can't sleep," Spike complained, fighting off a smile nevertheless.

They strolled along quietly for a while, until Spike perked up, brow furrowed. "This way," he said softly, and they wound amongst the tombstones, going more slowly once the sound of chanting was distinguishable to Buffy's ears.

They crept forward together and peered around a crypt. "Hey, that's Jonathon!" Buffy exclaimed quietly.

"And robot-boy, what's his name?" Spike said.

"Warren," she supplied. "And – no wait, I don't know who the other one is. Doesn't matter, I'm thinking chanting in the graveyard is nothing good. It's time to bust up this party".

She strode forward, Spike hanging back on a hunch.

"Jonathon! I thought you were over doing spells," Buffy ground out, pulling the startled boy up by his ear.

"Buffy!" he squeaked. "You're – oh my God you're not dead! I'm so glad!" He'd turned to pull her into an emotional embrace, but the furious 'Hey!' from Warren made him stop. "I mean – we are Sunnydale's Masters now. You stand no chance against us!" he brayed in a voice that betrayed the confidence he was trying to project.

"Nice job, numb nuts," the one they didn't know muttered.

"Dude, she's the Slayer," Jonathon hissed. "And – it's Buffy!"

She almost would have smiled if it hadn't been so pathetic.

Jonathon still firmly in her grasp, she reached down for the other one and hauled him up. "And who are you?"

"I'm Andrew. _Wells_," he added importantly as it got no reaction. "Hello, the flying monkeys at the school play?" When Buffy still showed no signs of recognition, he sighed. "Tucker's brother".

That sparked something. "Hellhound Tucker?" She shook them both. "What are you boys doing here?"

"We're busy. And it's not your concern!" Tucker's brother said with a whine. "We're the masters of Sunnydale and you have no business here".

Buffy looked at the black candles and the symbols drawn on the cemetery lawn – and was that in blood? "You made it my business when you started working spells in a graveyard". Realizing something, she said, "Where's-".

"Right here, luv," Spike answered, Warren in his grasp, squirming pointlessly.

"Dude, I think that's Spike," Jonathon whispered.

"Of course it is," Warren hissed back.

"Right here, you gits. And yeah, I'm Spike. The biggest, baddest, truest _master_ you'll ever meet. So if you don't want to end up as my dinner," he threatened, vamping, "you'll start spilling before your blood does".

Jonathon swallowed. "Buffy won't let you…"

She winked at Spike over their heads. "Don't be so sure. How do you know Spike here hasn't lured me over to the dark side with his sinister attraction?" The blond boy's eyes roved over the vampire appreciatively, and Buffy shook him slightly, his creepy once over triggering her possessiveness.

"You heard Spike. Talk". Warren and the other kid were silent, while Jonathon opened his mouth to say something then snapped it shut at Warren's glare.

"Here honey, you can have this one to eat," she said, shoving Tucker's brother at him. "Jonathon and I are going to have a little chat. Catch up on old times".

Buffy hauled him away, around the side of the crypt where he couldn't see the others. "Spill it".

Jonathon gulped. "Look, I didn't mean for things to get this far, okay? We teamed up to get rich, but then… and it was too late for me to back out and now I'm stuck".

Sighing, Buffy said, "Stuck with what? Come on Levinston, you know better than to hold out on me".

He darted a frightened glance around the side of the crypt, then whispered, "We killed a girl. By mistake. Warren's ex-girlfriend".

"Katrina?" she interrupted.

"Yes, her. And instead of doing the right thing, Warren made us cover it up. I – I didn't want to, but he talked me into it, and now… it's gone to his head. Getting away with murder. He's… well, he's scaring me, but I can't say no". He looked down, ashamed. "C-can you help me, Buffy?"`

She started to respond, but then an intense light coming from the side of the crypt momentarily distracted her, leaving her head fuzzy. 'Warren is my Master' flitted through her head, but she banished it with quick shake.

"Oh crap," Jonathon said.

"What?"

"Warren must have used the dampener. On Spike". He cringed at her look and hurried to explain. "It makes a person subservient. So now Spike will do whatever he says".

"Warren is his master," she repeated dully.

"Until it wears off. He boosted the dampener's power, but since Spike is a vampire I don't know how long it will last…"

"Crap," she echoed as Spike's enraged snarl came closer to her. "I can hold him off, but I'd rather not have to protect you too". She took in Jonathon's short stature. "How are you at running?" He gave her a dismayed look. "Get yourself someplace safe, find me tomorrow. How about the UC Sunnydale commons? At nine?"

He nodded and set off. Buffy turned just in time to see Spike lunging at her, Warren standing far behind him.

"Kill her!" Warren commanded.


	55. Chapter 55

**Author's Notes:**

How many people don't really mind what Willow did to Warren? Show of hands? (Does that make me evil?)

* * *

_"Kill her," Warren commanded..._

.

"Yes, kill her!" the other kid intoned, reiterating Warren's command to Spike, but it sounded robotic. He must have been brain-fried as well. Not that it mattered. The only thing she could do right now was hold Spike off and hope he returned to normal soon.

Luckily, the vampire was no match for her newfound strength. It took some time to stop her husband, but Buffy still trounced him more easily than she ever would have in the past, removing the Gem of Amarra from his finger and knocking him out cold. She sulked a little at her victory despite the absurdity of the thought. Spike had always been her equal, and while her extra powers came in handy for staying alive, she was sad that they had robbed them of that parity. She shook away the misgivings, remembering she had nerds to deal with.

When she turned around the goofy blond boy was still standing there, but Warren was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Tucker's brother. Warren commands that I'm your master now".

It was worth a shot.

Surprisingly, it worked.

"Yes, Master".

Hmmm… what to do. "I want you to go to the Magic Box and tell Willow – the red-headed girl – everything that you and Jonathon and Warren have done and were planning to do. Got it?"

"Yes, Master".

Buffy smiled. That was pretty cool actually, even if it was dangerous to think that way. "Run!" she added, and she couldn't help the little snicker of amusement she felt at the sight.

Pulling out her cell phone, she updated Willow on the sitch, the witch promising to take care of it.

That left Warren to find and Spike to deal with. She couldn't leave Spike here, and she couldn't carry him far either. Buffy resigned herself to finding Warren another day while she waited for Spike to regain consciousness.

She eyed him warily as he came to, shifting on the ground, wondering if he was still under the effects of the dampener. And if the same trick would work on him.

Spike groaned. "Buffy?" Back to normal then.

"Hey sweetie, how you feeling?"

"Like you kicked my arse, luv". He touched his nose and grimaced at her. "You did, didn't you?"

"Yuppers. Had to remind you why it's a bad idea to try to kill me".

Spike stared at her. "You do know I have no sodding clue what you're talking about, right luv?"

She hauled him to his feet. "Don't worry, I'll fill you in".

* * *

"Prezzies, the very best part," Buffy pronounced to the room full of family and friends. It wasn't every day a girl turned 21. Especially if said girl was the Slayer, had already died twice, and seemed to have a curse on her birthday.

She held out hope that this would be a good birthday for once. Andrew and Jonathon were in jail, thanks to their confessions, and Warren had likely skipped town. The Scoobies had in their possession most of the papers and gadgetry the nerds had owned, effectively shutting down their operation. There were no other baddies looming on the horizon. No reason for anything to go wrong tonight.

Just prezzies and cake and then a private celebration with her honey. The best birthday a girl could hope for.

Especially when presents included a 'Xander Harris original', the chest he'd made for her weapons. Spike had a knack for getting her perfect gifts, but he might have been outplayed by the carpenter tonight. She glanced at her husband's face but there was no sign of jealously or resentment there.

Yup, it was going to be a good birthday for a change.

* * *

Buffy was alone in the Magic Box, studying after a go in the training room. Spike was on a job tonight – "It'll set us up nicely," he'd said – and she was using the time to try get ahead on her schoolwork.

She heard the back door snick open and frowned. It was long past business hours and she wasn't expecting any of the gang to show. She arose and started in that direction.

"I'm sorry, we're closed, please come…" she trailed off. Then, "Riley?"

"Buffy. I need your help. There's a demon loose in Sunnydale, we've been tracking from Paraguay, and it-"

"Riley?" she repeated again, staring at him in shock. He looked good, all in black, with a new scar near his eye. She wasn't feeling anything more than surprise at his sudden appearance, but it was a _big_ surprise.

"Hi. Yes. I guess you need a minute to process".

"Thirty seconds". She waited a beat. "I'm good now. What is it?"

* * *

The frenetic pace required to track the Suvolte demon left little time for conversation or even reflection. There was just enough of her mind free of the task at hand for Buffy to muse that she was glad she'd let Riley go, despite her one-time desire to try to make it with a 'normal' guy. While she still cared about him, there was no way he could ever touch what she had with Spike. She wondered briefly how the soldier felt about her now. And what he would say when she had the chance to mention that she was married to Spike – for real this time.

Maybe she wouldn't. No need to rub his face in it.

Of course, that was before she met Sam.

"Hi there. What exactly are you doing with my husband?" she'd called out while Riley and Buffy were helping each other up after the Suvolte's attack, as if she had no doubts about Riley's loyalty to her.

Okay, sure Buffy had sent the guy away, but it still smarted to know that after his all declarations that he was crazy about her he was married to somebody else only a year later.

Somebody who was obviously meant for him.

And she had Spike.

But still.

Little bit of ouch.

It didn't help her attitude when she screwed up and killed the demon, which was apparently _not_ the objective.

Riley and Sam had taken it in stride. "No worries, Buffy. We have a plan B," he'd said. "Do you want me to pick you up when I have it nailed down?"

"Yeah, sure," she'd replied, bemused, as he'd let her off back at the Magic Shop to pick up her gear so she could patrol.

Sam had stayed with her, and though Buffy wanted to be uncomfortable, she couldn't. The other woman was a breath of fresh air and Buffy found herself giggling at the stories she told about Riley as they cased the cemetery.

"Thanks for letting me tag along," Sam said.

"No problem".

"Not for you, maybe. I gotta tell you Buffy, I'm a little intimidated. I mean, patrolling with the real-live Slayer… you're like Santa Claus… or the Buddha or something".

Um… "Fat and jolly?"

"Legendary. And it's not just Slayer status I'm talking about. It's you".

"So… Riley talks about me?"

"A lot. You're a part of my life. Because you're part of him. I tried hating you at first, but Risley wouldn't let me".

Buffy winced. "I wouldn't blame him… I wasn't able to return how he felt… and…"

"He didn't say anything for a long time, but I could tell he was ripped up inside. It was a good break, you know. He didn't have any hard feelings for you. He just had… feelings. A lot of them".

"He's a good guy. I'm glad he found you".

They patrolled awhile longer, but nothing turned up. Buffy resisted the urge to call Spike, knowing he wouldn't answer unless she used the emergency ring. But this wasn't an emergency. What could she say? 'I'm feeling a little discombobulated because my ex showed up married to this real fine girl? And hey, it made me realize how much I love you – even if it hurts just a little that he moved on so quickly?' Not really emergency material. By the time he came home later she'd be all sorted out, and they'd swap stories about their crazy nights and all would be well.

"I think it's a bust out here. You want to come back to my place for a cup of coffee?" Buffy offered.

"Nah, I think I'll go try to find Riley. Knowing him, he's got himself into some crazy situation he needs my help getting out of," Sam replied with a grin. Buffy returned it. She knew the feeling. Maybe she should go find Spike…

He'd insisted he had to do this job alone though, and with no reason to doubt him, Buffy acquiesced.

She was locking up the Magic Box once more when Riley pulled up in his black SUV. "Sam there?"

"No, she went to find you".

"Dammit. I don't have time to… can you come? I know where the eggs are, but we have to hurry".

"Yeah, sure". Buffy hopped in and Riley drove at breakneck speed to one of the cemeteries – the one, Buffy remembered, where Spike had once kept a crypt.

As she trailed Riley through the gravestones, her mind began to wrap its way around the impending feeling of nausea that was creeping up.

Spike had a job he didn't want her near. It was going to pay money – a lot of money. Enough to pay off her student loans. The demon eggs were wanted by arms dealers – known for paying hefty sums.

And Riley was throwing open the door to Spike's old crypt.

She put a hand on his arm. "Me first," she whispered, feeling her gorge rise as she stepped inside.

Spike was sitting on the sarcophagus reading a book, alone in the gloom, casual and at ease. Her heart lurched. Surely there was a mistake.

"Buffy!" he smiled, delighted to see her even though he'd told her to let him do this job on his own. It was the smile that did her in. She stepped aside to let Riley enter.

"Hello Doctor".

* * *

Spike's eyes flicked between his wife and her wanker of an ex. He'd been right pleased to see her, even though he hadn't wanted her near those eggs, hadn't wanted her to come by while he was waiting for his target. And now he didn't know what the bleeding hell was going on.

"Look mate, I'm not sure what you're doing here – with _Buffy_ – but I have no idea what you're on about".

"Where are they, Doctor?"

"Where's what? And why you keep calling me that?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I'm glad to be back in Sunnydale, where the locals all speak English and I know who to beat for information. And it all led me here, _Doctor_".

Buffy had been standing quietly to the side, watching the exchange with a drawn face. Spike looked hard at her and she raised her eyes to his, a glimmer of doubt in them. Doubt over who he was. It cut deep.

"Buffy. You don't believe whatever story he's given you, do you? Pet?"

She hesitated just enough that he thought he might collapse from the pain of it. What was it about her being around this git that caused his heart to implode?

"Can you explain what's going on? Because -" her eyes flicked to soldier-boy. "I have to admit it doesn't look good. But I know you can explain, right?" she asked desperately.

"Your faith in me is astounding," he snarled. "So much for – what was it again? Oh yeah, to always believe in me. Seems like you've already passed judgment, _Slayer_, so get on with it. What're you lot here for?"

"I'm taking this place apart until I find the nest" the wanker said.

"Oh, that? Go on, it's downstairs. No need to get so touchy about it. You're only ruining the biggest job I've ever had".

"Selling those demon eggs to the highest bidders? Yeah, big job alright. But I can't let you do it. Know Buffy has a soft spot for you, but…"

Spike snorted. "A soft spot. Yeah. So I thought". She flinched and he felt a stab of satisfaction. "But my wife is as fickle in her faith in me as she ever was".

Riley raised his eyebrows and turned to her, mouthing 'wife?' She shrugged, apologetic and pale-faced, and Spike's anger boiled over. Not the demon's anger. The man's. He turned to her. "Right. It's been swell Slayer, but looks like my part here is over. See you around, sweetheart". There was no chance of acquiring his target now, not without explaining, and Spike wasn't going to be reduced to proving his worth to _Finn_. He shoved past Captain Cardboard, a sick sense of pleasure running through him when the larger man went spinning heavily to the ground, and stormed out.

"Spike, wait!" She came flying after him. "Please, just tell me what's going on!"

It was too late for that. She still – still – didn't trust him, no matter what he did, and he didn't feel like giving her the real story. Let her think the worst of him, since it was what she wanted anyhow.

"Guess my soul isn't as shiny as you thought. Better get back in there and help him destroy those eggs, pet".

He continued walking away and she put her hand out to stop him, her fingers digging into the bare arm below his T-shirt. "No. Where are you going?"

He vamped and shook her off, a hundred and twenty years of being the Biggest Bad in his threatening demeanor. "Don't touch me right now, little girl. You don't want to make the cold-blooded killer angry".

"Spike?" she queried tremulously, forlorn and lost, but he didn't turn back. He couldn't bear to be near her right now, not with his heart panting on the floor the way it was.

She didn't follow, and he figured it was probably for the best.

* * *

The eggs had been destroyed, along with the lower level of the crypt. Sam and Riley had flown off into the night. Literally. And she still hadn't talked to Spike.

She didn't believe he was selling the eggs to arms dealers, even though he'd accused her of believing Riley's explanation. She hadn't doubted him, not really.

Not for more than a fraction of a second.

Which was a fraction of a second too long.

Still, he hadn't offered her an alternate explanation, so she didn't know what to think.

More important than an explanation, she just wanted to find _him_. She'd hurried home, hoping he was there cooling off, but he wasn't. He didn't answer when she called out through the door as she walked in, but she already knew he wasn't there. She could sense his lack of presence. Frowning, Buffy mulled over where he might be. She could spend all night searching. Or…

She twisted the gem on her finger. It immediately pulled her farther into their apartment. She frowned in confusion, until she saw his matching ring lying on the dresser.

The dresser which had its drawers opened and half-emptied.

Buffy tore through their home. Here and there, there were signs that Spike had vacated. His duster, which he hadn't worn since they'd returned from Africa, was no longer on its hook by the door. Some of his books were gone. Likewise, the leather-bound journal Dawn had given him for Christmas. His CDs. His keys.

She raced downstairs, but the DeSoto he rarely drove in town was no longer in its stall.

Buffy flipped open her phone in a panic. She'd already tried to call him once tonight, but it had rung unanswered and she had left a terse, semi-apologetic message. She should have been more apologetic, she realized, but she'd been furious at him for running off on her. Now she wished she'd poured out her heart to him. Because his phone was going straight to voicemail. He'd turned it off.

He didn't want to be found.

"Willow!" she gasped when her friend answered her call. "I need you to do a locator spell on Spike! I'll be right there!" She didn't explain, only hung up, hurrying to the Magic Box as quickly as she could.

Neither she nor Riley had told the others about Spike's involvement. "Riley," she'd said after the job was finished, as they trudged away from the crypt and back to his car. "I trust Spike. Implicitly. If he was involved, he must have had a good reason".

"It true you're his wife – this time?"

"Yes. He's… he's changed so much. He's good now. A good man. I know it didn't look that way, but… there has to be more to the story".

He'd put his hands on her shoulders. "Alright. You know him better than me. But I have to tell you, everything points to him being this Doctor character".

"I'll find out. You'll see".

They'd made the rest of the drive in strained silence.

Now Buffy was at the Magic Box again. It felt like she was never going to be able to leave the shop.

"What do you have?" she burst out without preamble, rushing to the table where Willow and Tara were performing the spell.

"We – we can't find him, Buffy. He's not in Sunnydale," Willow said nervously, unsure of what was going on. "We can widen our search, but… I don't know if it's reliable".

"Try, please," she begged frantically.

The witches did, with the same result. "Buffy. What is it?" Tara asked quietly.

She collapsed, head in her hands, shoulders heaving.

"I screwed up," she sobbed, the realization that Spike had _left_ her washing implacably over her.

.

.

END PART IV

.

.

* * *

A/N: Ooooh, you thought the bad was going to come from the trio, didn't you?


	56. Chapter 56

**Author's Notes: **We're on the last part now!

* * *

Part V

.

It had been three days since Spike had disappeared. Buffy lay in her bed, too heartbroken to care about going to class.

She couldn't wrap her mind around it. They'd been fine in the afternoon, making love after doing her homework, whispering and giggling like the young newlyweds they felt themselves to be.

And then it had all been ripped away from her. By her own stupid actions.

When she was feeling angry rather than remorseful, she shifted the blame to Spike. After all, he was the one who had withheld obviously important information from her.

But right now she knew the thrust of it. It was because she'd denied him when he'd needed her support and trust.

Desultorily, she flipped open her phone and tried calling once more. It didn't even go to voicemail. Not that she was going to leave another message. She'd left a dozen already, pouring her heart out to him, begging his forgiveness, and once or twice bitching him out for being such an asshole.

Dawn had sworn she'd done the same, leaving him messages on her behalf, but he never answered his phone. Not for her, not for Buffy, not for anyone who tried calling. And now, apparently, never again.

_This number is no longer in service_.

Well that answered that question. He wasn't just cooling off.

He wasn't planning on coming back.

She let herself mope for one more day, and then she took action.

It didn't mean anything to her without him around, but she still had responsibilities. Duties to attend to.

Buffy took off the homing ring and placed it on the dresser next to his. It was worthless if he wasn't wearing his. She pulled off her wedding ring and stared at it. Wearing it reminded her of what she'd lost, and it she almost couldn't bear the sight of it. She considered adding it to the pile, but couldn't yet. It felt too final. She slid her ring back on her finger, stifling a sob.

He'd come back tomorrow, or maybe the next day. He'd be back before the week was out.

She held onto that thought to get her through the empty days.

* * *

Spike was parked in a chair on the inside of the coffee shop, watching the comings and goings at the Magic Box through the dusty window. He'd been at this for two days now, lurking in the shadows, working himself up to doing something else.

To talking to Buffy instead of just watching her.

If you'd asked him at any point before ten days ago if he would ever do a runner on the Slayer, he would have laughed himself sick and called you barmier than Dru. He would have pointed out that he'd once run out on her for only a few minutes and it had resulted in her death, so, _bloody hell, no_, there was no chance of it ever happening again.

But he had. He'd scarpered, and he'd stayed scarpered, for nine and a half days longer than he'd ever thought possible.

At first it had been to spare her the bite of his fury. He would have said some truly nasty things if he'd stuck around. The kinds of cutting remarks you didn't come back from. Not that he didn't think she deserved them in the moment. She'd taken the word of that git over him. There was a certain simple irony to the fact that the last time she'd torn his heart out she'd been with the same wanker.

Riley was lucky he'd survived the encounter, Spike admitted to himself. Back at the crypt, he could have cheerfully ripped the man's throat out without a twinge of compunction. Probably wouldn't have felt much regret later either, truth be told. There was still enough of the demon in him that the satisfaction would almost outweigh the remorse.

So following his instinct to run had been a good one. Words were left unsaid, actions undone, meaning there was a good chance of patching things up, letting everything blow over.

It was the other nine days that were a little harder to explain.

He'd been in their flat, pacing, on edge, when the thought had come to him: leave. Not _leave_ leave; just for a day or two. Get some breathing air, some room to think. So he'd haphazardly thrown belongings into a duffel and torn out of Sunnydale, Sid Vicious blaring, Johnny Walker by his side, his duster thrown over the seat and a fag between his lips for the first time in weeks.

Pretensions of the Big Bad all over again.

The Slayer thought he was still up to his old tricks, still his bad old self. Why not?

Coming off his bender sometime the next day, passed out in his car fuck knows where, a thought had suddenly gripped him: _Who was he?_

It didn't let go.

He mulled it over as he drove, looking for a cool and dark place to rest his aching head. He'd thought he knew. Who he used to be, who he was now. But if Buffy doubted him then maybe he wasn't who he thought. Maybe there was something lacking in him, and she hadn't the heart to tell him.

Maybe he still wasn't a _good_ man. He didn't know.

After all, he'd only had the soul, what, three months? What was that compared to his long years of evil?

He'd taken a room in a small backwater hotel and sat quietly in the dark, trying to suss out what it all meant.

_Who was he?_

He could define himself in terms of Buffy, but it didn't seem to be enough anymore. He'd never been the sort for self-reflection, but as one day had passed into another he'd come to appreciate the quiet and the solitude, coming to terms with things he hadn't yet, not since he'd had his soul returned.

First he'd been bug-shagging crazy. Then he'd been wrapped up in Buffy, so that he'd never had the chance to understand what he wanted, not the way he did now.

Funnily enough, what he wanted was entirely predictable. He shouldn't have needed more than ten minutes to put it to words. All he wanted was to love a good woman and be loved in return. To make a difference in the world. And that was it. It was what he'd had, but he was clear on it now.

Spike had packed his duffle and hurried back to Sunnydale, ready to share his revelations with Buffy. He loved her. He knew she loved him. Their work was important. Nothing else mattered.

He'd completely forgotten the reason he'd left in the first place. All his anger had drained away. After all, she hadn't really betrayed him. It'd only been a moment of uncertainty, fair enough considering the way she'd found him and his long history of evil. He'd overreacted because she'd been with Finn, that was all. It was just a misunderstanding. Their first real spat.

He'd had hundreds of quarrels with Dru over the years. Spike had plenty of practice making up to a woman.

When he'd arrived home, Buffy hadn't been there, but her scent was overwhelming. He'd just missed her. And she'd been crying from the smell of it. A lot. As he wandered through the flat, the signs of her tears were everywhere. The wastebaskets overflowed with tissues. The flat was a mess, clothes and empty ice cream cartons scattered without care. The photo album Dawn had given them was in their bed, opened to a page with a large photo of the two of them together, laughing. She'd been sleeping with one of his shirts, pulled from the laundry, and it was still wet from her tears.

His eyes had roamed over their dresser, a sharp intake of breath escaping him when he saw what was resting there.

Her wedding ring.

A frisson of fear ran through him. While he'd been clearing his head, she'd been in pain. She might not be as pleased to see him as he'd expected.

Spike had fled from the flat, leaving everything untouched, and sat in his car, unsure of what to do. He might have a century's worth of experience in making up with Drusilla, but that was useless when it came to Buffy. She didn't have the same perspective on time that he did. What had been a fleeting drop in a bucket to him might seem like an eternity to her. Had he stayed away too long? Was she ready to move on, her heart hardened to him? He'd always known he didn't deserve her. Maybe she'd remembered it while he was nowhere to be found.

He'd gone to the coffee shop and perched himself by the window, furtively watching for a glimpse of her at the Magic Box, wondering what to do. While he'd waited, he'd had his phone reconnected. He'd had it shut off, to take away the temptation of calling Buffy before he'd sorted his thoughts out, but now he wanted to hear the messages he'd ignored before. Each voicemail he listened to was increasingly desperate, and his hands were shaking by the time he was through listening to them.

Bugger.

When she'd finally emerged from the Magic Box to the sunny street, his doubts grew stronger. She looked exhausted, wan and thin. How could she have lost so much weight in so few days? The spring was gone from her step. His heart ached for her.

Maybe, he thought, she was better off without him after all, if he could so blithely do this to her.

That thought had propelled him through last night, while he had dithered about the best way to approach her. Which led to him sitting where he was now, acting like timid, poncy William.

_Sod this,_ he snorted.

She'd hurt him, he'd hurt her, but it was nothing compared to what they'd overcome already.

Spike moved briskly to the door when he saw Buffy coming down the street, intending to intercept her before she went inside. Just as he stepped out into the bright street, a voice full of bitter anger called out, "Slayer! You think you can just take everything away from me, you bitch?"

Buffy turned, and Spike witnessed everything in slow motion. The shock on her face. The glinting metal of the gun that Warren raised. Even the path the bullet took from the barrel of the weapon to her heart. He felt like he was frozen, but he must not have been because the next second found him bowling Warren over, the screams of the people on the street ringing in his ears.

He vaguely heard Willow step out of the shop and gasp, but it didn't penetrate his mind. All Spike knew was that there was a threat to Buffy, and he had that threat in his grasp.

His fangs were leaving the boy's throat before he even cottoned on to what he was doing, the limp body falling from his hands to thud on the hot sidewalk below, blood gushing from where he'd torn the jugular with the intent to kill, not feed.

Willow and Anya stared at him, stricken, terrified, blood on their own hands.

The dead boy already forgotten, Spike pivoted and knelt next to Buffy, who was slumped on the sidewalk, unconscious.

He didn't understand what was happening when Anya began to force him away from his wife's side, away from Willow's rapid chanting. He growled fiercely until Anya slapped him with all the force she possessed, his visage melting back to human under the shock.

"What the bloody hell?"

"You're making a spectacle," Anya hissed. "And keeping Willow from saving Buffy's life," she added frantically. "So get out of the way, because you're not helping".

Spike stared at her in stunned silence. In the back of his mind, he'd known but refused to acknowledge it – Buffy's life was slipping away right in front of him.

The scream of the siren made it real in a way nothing else could have. Paramedics hustled his wife into the ambulance, frantically calling instructions to each other. The only words Spike comprehended were, "… should be dead already".

Willow caught his arm, preventing him from tearing open the ambulance doors closed against him. "I put her in stasis. It should hold until they've extracted the bullet from her heart. She might have a chance…"

He took in her words, bewildered, standing in the middle of the street with blood covering his face and shirt. Not Buffy's blood, he hadn't a drop of that on him. Warren's blood. Spike wished he could kill the bastard all over again. It had been too quick to be satisfying.

Willow was talking but Spike couldn't follow her. Was this his fault? If he'd been with Buffy, could it have gone differently? A thousand scenarios played in his mind, each one making him the hero instead of the tosser who had caused her death.

Twice.

A wordless cry built in him until it burst forth, driving him to his knees in despair, his head lifted in an anguished howl.

Anya raised her arm to slap him again, but Willow interceded. "Spike," she said firmly, getting in his face so he'd have to see her. "Buffy needs you. It's not over yet. You need to pull yourself together and be strong for her!"

He silenced, staring again, then wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head in her belly and sobbing harder than he'd ever done in his life.

* * *

It was Willow who'd led him back to his place, leaving Anya to alert the others, Willow who'd insisted he shower and dress in clean clothes.

"Look, Spike, it's going to be a long time before they even get her out of surgery. You can take twenty minutes to wash away all… that…"

The smell of Warren's blood permeated his senses, a visceral reminder of what he'd done, what he might lose.

Clean and ready to go, he took Willow's arm, the one to support her now as the reality of what had happened set in.

"You did everything you could, right Red?" he demanded, half reassuring her and half needing it for himself.

"I – I did," she responded faintly as he guided her down the stairs. "It wasn't mystical, so there was only so much I could do. Anything more and… you know. I could have made it worse in the long run. There're consequences for that kind of magic. You're the one who told me that".

He pushed away the thought that the witch should have done _more_. When had that ever gone right?

They arrived at the hospital, the antiseptic smells and bright fluorescent lights making his head buzz. He hadn't been here since… Joyce. Had anyone called her?

He found Anya and Xander huddled together in a corner. "Did anyone call Buffy's mum?" he asked, refusing to meet their eyes, not wanting to see the blame there.

"I did," Xander answered, subdued. "Spike. What happened?"

To him? To Buffy? "Warren shot her".

"We gathered that much from the way you ripped his throat out," Anya pointed out, her bald statement holding no repugnance for his actions. "I think Xander meant, where were you? Buffy thought you'd left her for good. Nobody could get a hold of you".

Spike's eyes flicked to the doors leading to the operating rooms. If she died believing that…

"I was sorting my head out…" he trailed off, his defense sounding weak to his own ears. Of course Buffy would have thought he'd left her. He turned away, hunched and miserable, taking himself to the opposite end of the room where he sat in a plastic chair, refusing to give in to his need to pace.

He looked up when four pairs of feet came into view of his lowered gaze. Xander put his hand on Spike's shoulder. "Hey, man, don't beat yourself up. Nobody could have predicted… she'll pull through. She's strong".

_Unless I made it so she doesn't care to_, he accused himself. He needed to be by her side, let her know he was sorry, he hadn't intended to hurt her so.

Spike found himself being propelled back to his seat. "You need to let them do their job," Willow said gently.

* * *

When the surgeon emerged, his hands were unsteady and his eyes rimmed with red. "I – I'm not sure how we managed it, but she's still alive," he told them. "By all rights she should have been instantly dead. It's nothing short of a miracle".

"Buffy'll live then?" Spike ventured hopefully, desperately.

"Her chances are good. There will be some permanent damage, I'm afraid, but…"

"Thank you doctor," Tara said, giving him a soft smile. "I'm sure you're exhausted".

He focused on the blonde girl and gave an unsteady laugh. "I shouldn't admit to it, but…" Holding his shaking hands up for the others to see, he confessed, "That was intense. I could use a drink".

"You've earned it, mate," Spike told the man, wishing for a drink himself. "Thank you. When can…?"

"You see her?" The doctor took in the desperation in his face. "I can let you take a peek through the recovery window, okay? That's the best I can do for now".

* * *

Joyce fell into Spike's arms the moment she walked into the waiting room, but Dawn only glared at him. When her mom had finally gotten control of herself, Spike turned to the girl. "Dawn," he said simply.

Eyes narrowed, she took a step and kicked him in the shin. Hard. "Jerk".

"I know, Niblet. I buggered it up again".

She relented. "So did Buffy. Or at least, she thinks she did. She thinks she drove you away".

Gesturing at their surroundings Spike said, "It was stupid. Nothing important, really. And now we're here and I don't know if I'll ever get to tell her…"

An intern approached them. "You're Miss Summers' family, correct?" Spike nodded. "We've moved her into ICU. She's asleep, but stable. If you wanted to take a moment to see her?"

Spike motioned to Joyce, indicating she should go first, and he paced nervously until she returned a few minutes later. Dawn smoothed his curls back off of his head.

"Go tell her," she said, and Spike didn't need any further encouragement.

* * *

She'd been somewhat aware of her surroundings for awhile now, sensations penetrating the bottomless fog she was struggling with. A deep, dull ache surged within her chest with every beat of her heart, keeping time with the faint beeping and hissing sounds nearby. Muted voices would come and go, and hands would touch her, moving her, repositioning her.

It was the feel of one hand in particular that made her want to fight against the numbing stupor, the feel of hot tears on her arm and a distantly soothing voice that made it possible.

"I'm so sorry. I never should have left you," the voice said, and she had the feeling she'd heard the same words before.

The pull of unconsciousness was overwhelming, but before she gave into it she managed one faint squeeze of the hand that held hers.

Just to let the voice know she'd heard.


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's Notes: **Reviews are delicious! Thank you!

Nothing belongs to me, not for prophet, etc. Oops, not for profit. That's too funny to edit out.

* * *

Spike had been intently focused on her for hours, in the way only a vampire could be, ever since he'd felt the faint press of her hand against his. Every one of his senses was alert for any sign that she was waking, so he knew she was conscious even before she did.

He watched with relief as her green eyes fluttered open, cloudy with confusion, slowly focusing on him.

"Thought I heard your voice," she mumbled, squeezing his hand once more.

"'M here, kitten, don't you worry," he told her, shaky with emotion.

"Hurts," she complained. "What…?"

"You were shot. Docs fixed you, you'll be better soon".

"Tell me…" she breathed, eyes falling shut again.

"What happened?" A faint nod. "Warren. He had a gun, he shot you. In – in the heart. Willow did something to keep you alive, until they could operate. Apparently it's a miracle you survived." He relayed the facts to her in a cracking voice.

"That's why… my heart… hurts so much more".

_So much more_.

"You'll be better soon. Got that Slayer constitution, luv".

But she was already asleep.

* * *

The next time she woke, Spike was slumbering in the chair, his hand still wrapped around hers. She smiled faintly, until she remembered why she felt so surprised he was there.

She shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable on the starchy hospital sheets, and Spike woke. "Buffy," he said quietly. She couldn't read the emotion in his face.

"Hi," she croaked at him. "You been here long?"

"Haven't left your side".

Her fuzzy brain thought about that. Why was he here? Hadn't he written her out of his life? She rolled her thick tongue around her mouth. "It's okay. You don't need to stay anymore. I'll be alright". She didn't want him to feel he had to stick around for her sake.

He didn't move, only watched her inscrutably. "Go," she said a little more forcefully, even though the ache in her chest became searing at the single word.

She couldn't look at him when he sat forward, his blue eyes searching hers. "Is that really what you want?"

_NO!_

The monitors beeped around her, making the silence between them echo louder.

"Whatever you want, Spike," she finally answered weakly. "Don't want you to feel… like… you have to".

Her eyes began to flutter shut again, exhausted from the not-so-simple conversation.

"Don't leave me yet, pet". She came more fully alert, drawn back by the pain in his voice. "Listen to me just for a bit, yeah? I don't want to go. Shouldn't have left you before. I know you're too tired right now for the long of it, so I'm just going to give you the short of it. I love you. I wasn't leaving you, I was only clearing my head. I'm sorry. I was a wanker to not realize what I was doing to you, and I'm not going anywhere, understand?"

She nodded, the ache in her chest subsiding slightly. "Okay…" Her lids settled, lashes flush against her cheek. "I… love… …too"

* * *

This time, the hand holding hers was her mom's. "Mommy?"

"I'm here, baby".

"Thanks".

* * *

She drifted along, hearing the conversation around her without quite listening.

"Buffy is recovering remarkably well. I don't have to remind you that it is a miracle she's even alive. We're going to continue to sedate her for several days, in order to keep her heart beating slowly. It will allow the torn muscle a better chance of healing".

The voices drifted away, out of the room, and then Willow spoke in her ear. "I've got something here for you Buffy, to drink. It'll help you heal faster. Can you try a little?"

She must have indicated her assent somehow because her head was gently tipped forward, then a thin liquid trailed down her throat. She spluttered at the acrid taste, and it stopped.

"Just a bit more". She opened her mouth, swallowing more easily as the liquid burned its way down. "Rest now, sweetie. I'll see you later".

A faint rumble from the hallway. "How is she, Red?"

"I think she's going to be okay, Spike. Why don't you go home and rest for awhile?"

"Know I can't do that".

"You know it wasn't your fault, right? There's no way you could have stopped this from happening".

"If I'd just been there…"

"No guarantees. And, look, I know you don't want to hear this, but you're going to have to leave her side at some point. Once Buffy's well again, you can't stay by her side 24/7 just in case something happens. It's not healthy". There was silence, and then Willow said, "Just go home and shower at least, get fresh clothes. It's been five days. Nothing's going to change in the next hour".

There was a pained sigh. "Yeah, alright. You staying? Give me a call if she wakes?"

"You heard what the doctor said. Buffy's going to be in Sleepyland for days. Go on".

* * *

Eight days. Eight days he'd lived in this hospital, with the smell of antiseptic that didn't quite cover the stink of disease and piss and vomit to his sensitive nose. Eight days of sleeping hunched over in a chair, holding her hand and watching her restless movements, snatching brief moments of reassurance when she'd wake for a few seconds and smile at him.

They'd taken her off the sedatives hours ago, an MRI showing the damage to her heart mostly healed, minus the scar tissue that would probably never leave, the doctors still shaking their heads over her incredible recovery.

He and Joyce were positioned on either side of Buffy, each of them holding one of her small hands, waiting for her to wake from her artificial sleep. Giles, who had returned from the motherland the day after receiving the news, was waiting in the hallway with the others.

"She's coming to," he informed Joyce, and they were soon greeted by her overly-bright green eyes, made larger by her sunken face.

"Hey there. My favorite hand-holding buddies," Buffy joked weakly. "Wow, this is different. I actually feel like I might be able to stay awake a whole five minutes".

Spike's dead heart beat a steady metaphorical tattoo of relief inside his chest. He stood and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be right outside, sweetheart".

"Spike?" she called weakly. He turned back to her, her near-skeletal appearance no longer startling him. "I love you".

"You too, pet," he said with a smile, and he exited the room, an almost spring in his step.

* * *

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief as Spike deposited her on the couch, tucking a blanket around her. "At last. You have _no_ idea how much I hate hospitals. Even one more day would have sent me crazy".

"Well, to be fair, the docs did expect to keep you there for months. Not days. So there is that to be thankful for".

"Slayer constitution comes in handy again".

Spike was sitting next to her on the couch, holding himself stiffly. The silence between them grew awkward.

"Look -"

"Spike -"

They both laughed nervously. "You first, luv".

"I'm sorry, okay. I'm really, really sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you for even a second. I trust you more than anybody else in the world".

He eased over to her, wrapping his arms around her. "No, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I've let you down often enough, and I know you didn't really mean it. I shouldn't have run off and left you to worry like that. I forgot how… Dru 'n me, we'd fight all the time, separate, come back together, no big deal. One time, I didn't see her for two years. I didn't think how it would seem to you, being gone that long. A few days is… nothing when you've lived as long as I have".

"You know I'd have an easier time believing that if you weren't so very patience-impaired. You went through a stoplight on the way home 'cause you thought it was taking too long".

He chuckled, sensing she was teasing him. "'M allowed to be a man of contradictions. Makes me all mysterious-like, an' I know how you birds go for that sort of thing".

Buffy leaned into him. "I'm still sor-"

He cut her off. "Right now, kitten, all I want to do is take care of you and revel in the fact that you're by my side again. No more 'pologizing from either of us, let's just move on".

"Promise me you're okay?"

"Promise. Nothing like a near-death scare to put a little squabble in perspective".

"Totally. I'm so glad it was only near-death. I mean, taken out by a gun? So not what I had in mind". Leaning further into him, she asked, "And… Warren? Are you okay about what you did?"

Spike stiffened beside her. "Look, it was instinct, I couldn't help it. He was hurting you and -"

"Hush, baby. I'm not blaming you". She trailed a soothing hand up and down his arm. "I mean, I can't deny that I would rather it hadn't happened. That whole not killing humans thing I've got going on. But I understand. And I really just want to know if _you're_ okay about it".

"Oh". Definitely surprised.

"I told you. I trust you to do what's right. Hell, I even killed Faith to save Angel's life – or tried to. So I get what you did. No censure from me on this one. I know you're not a killer anymore, Spike. Not for a long time now".

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to make his voice work. "You – you never bloody cease to amaze me".

"Well good, because I find you pretty amazing myself. But I notice you haven't answered my question".

Spike sighed. "I rather fancied I wouldn't kill again after I got my soul back. Didn't want any more blood on my hands". He sighed again. "Can't say as I'd do it any different though".

* * *

"It's May".

"Indeed it is, luv".

"I mean, it's _May_. And nothing is going on. No Big Bad, no apocalypse, barely even any little bads. Something's not right".

"Maybe we're getting a break for once".

"I don't get breaks. Something _terrible_ is going to happen, I know it".

"No point in fretting, pet. It will or it won't. Now back to studying for that last final. Then I'll take you shopping, how 'bout?"

"I don't know… maybe we should be doing something. Stave off the badness".

"Study the damn material, woman, before I shove it down your throat!"

"Geez. Cranky much?"

* * *

"Only three weeks now 'till the big day, eh Harris?"

"Don't remind me, Spike. We still have to-"

"Hold it right there, mate. I do _not_ like you near enough to listen to the litany of wedding planning snafus".

"But you like me well enough to be a groomsman".

"No, I like _Anya_ well enough".

"Ha ha".

"Listen, I've heard your tale of woe 'bout why you have a paucity of male friends. They tend to die or leave town, and since I'm not ever doing either, it leaves me no choice but to never be your friend".

"And again, ha ha. Remind me to stop stocking your favorite beer in my fridge, then".

"Hey now…"

* * *

"So, the whole summer stretches ahead of us," Willow said, taking a sip from the Slurpee she was holding.

"Well, some of us, anyhow. You're still taking classes," Buffy reminded her as they walked to the Magic Box.

"Oh, pfft. Only three. And easy ones at that. You must feel good, though. The whole semester done with _and_ those incompletes from last year completed".

Buffy smiled wryly. "The one good thing about being an invalid. Lots of time for homework".

"You say invalid, and yet…"

"Invalid for me. This really sucks. Before I got gunned down, I could beat Spike with both hands tied behind my back, and now… I try, but. He's holding out on me and I still can't take him," she complained, frustrated. "I mean, thank God he's on our side, right? It's all I can do to take out fledglings, like I'm a just-called Slayer. If it weren't for Spike, we'd be overrun with demons".

"Give it time, Buffy. It's only been five weeks. Even with Slayer healing…" Willow offered.

"Wills… I don't think I'm going to get better. I still have the power, but when I really exert myself – my heart seizes up, and I go down". She leaned in and admitted sotto voice, horrified, "Last night, I punched a vamp too hard and it left me crying from the pain. _Crying_. I don't do that".

The redhead put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Don't give up, alright? I'll look into more healing spells, see what we can do. We'll find something, I promise".

Buffy stared morosely into the distance. "I hope so Wills. 'Cause I'm pretty much useless right now… Warren may as well have killed me".

"Don't say that!" Willow bit out, shocked. "Even if – even if you can't kick ass the way you used to, there's so much more to you. And – think of Spike. It would destroy him, Buffy, if you were dead. You know that".

Laughing bitterly, she said, "Right. Because this is what he signed up for. A washed-up Slayer who can't even have sex-". She covered her mouth with a gasp, eyes darting to gauge Willow's expression at her admission. All she saw there was compassion.

"Do you really think Spike cares about that?"

"Yes," Buffy said petulantly. "I care too. I know he loves me anyhow, but Will, the sex was _amazing_. Spike's big with the physical. And now it's gone, and it's just another huge piece of my life that Warren stole from me".

Willow blushed as she asked, "You can't have any sex at all?"

"I can have old people sex. Slow, staid, and not too much of it. Just enough to get off if we're really careful. Nothing puts a damper on the mood more than me clutching at my chest and gasping in pain".

"It'll get better. It has to. And if it doesn't… you know you're the world to Spike. As long as you love him back, that's all he needs".

"But not all he deserves," Buffy whispered under her breath.

* * *

"Feel like a right poofter I'll have you know," Spike grumbled as he fussed with Xander's bowtie. "How did I end up with this sorry job?"

"Because you're the only one who here who actually knows how to tie one of these things. Lucky for me your skill set includes ritzing it up in monkey suits".

Spike finished and stepped back, eyeing the man in front of him critically. "Well. You do clean up nice. Maybe Anyanka isn't making such a poor choice after all".

"Oh, she is. I know I don't deserve her".

Spike could sense there was more to his comment than light-hearted banter. He wagered the boy's feet were colder than his own at the moment.

"You ready then?" he asked casually.

"I – I don't know, man. You saw my folks out there. The bitterness and the hatred and the years of drunkenness. I've avoided them for years, and I guess I forgot. How bad it was," he said glumly. He gave a twisted smile, full of hopelessness. "What I have to look forward to".

It struck Spike as absurd that the gangly teen he'd once tried to kill was now his friend, and a good friend at that. One that he wanted to reassure, not torment. Spike sneered at himself, disgusted with what a right poncy bugger the Big Bad had turned into. And yet, he couldn't stop the words of support that came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Look, mate. Your folks may be first-class wankers, but they're not you. I know for a fact Buffy's got an ass of a father, but does that make her an ass?" Xander shook his head. "'Ve heard tell about Tara's family more than once, but we both know she's the sweetest girl either of us will ever meet. Red's family is nothing to write home 'bout either, but she's a great bird all the same".

He looked Xander in the eye. "If you love Anya, you'll be the man she needs you to be. Love can change even the evilest amongst us into something better," he said dryly.

Xander nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, blood breath. That's some seriously good advice". He considered the bleached blond. "Love does work wonders, doesn't it?"

In another lifetime, Spike would have killed the boy for having heard such poncy words out of his Big Bad mouth. In this one, he only felt the warm flush of satisfaction when he realized he'd eased Xander's fears.

The next words the whelp spoke had him almost changing his mind.

"But we still know you're the most whipped out of the two of us. You're Buffy's bitch and you like it".

Only the fact that the assertion was completely and absolutely true stayed his hand.

* * *

"William?"

Spike turned, confused as to who might be calling him that.

"Is that really you?" the girl repeated. Spike wasn't sure who she was, other than a bridesmaid, based on the fact that she was in an unnaturally green dress identical to the one Buffy wore.

He looked at her more carefully as she fluffed her hair, recognition dawning on him. "Cecily?"

"Oh," she gave a coy laugh. "Halfrek, actually". Spike furrowed his brow. "I'm one of D'Hoffran's justice demons".

For a moment, his heart remembered what it had once felt for this so-called girl, and he laughed at himself. To think that poor William thought _that_ was love.

"Tell me… then too?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, was I a demon then? Well, yes," she answered, lashes fluttering.

He felt his arm being lifted as Buffy slid herself under it. "Hi honey. Do you two know each other?"

Cecily shrugged lightly. "No, no. Not really. You're… Buffy, right? Hi, I'm a friend of Anya's. Hallie".

"Nice to meet you," Buffy answered with a firm shake, and then she turned her attention to Spike. "We need you on parent detail ," she told him with a wave at the bar, where Mr. Harris was getting belligerent.

He nodded to the woman he'd once loved unrequitedly and turned away without a second glance.

* * *

Spike stood over the dead demon's body, watching as Xander hit it with the chair once more for good measure. Buffy was sitting on the ground nearby, trying to catch her breath. He could hear her heart galloping with that odd beat it had now, and his own ached in sympathy. He knew the despair she felt at having needed Spike to step in and help her defeat the creature that had sought vengeance on Anya.

Xander dropped the chair. "It's dead," he said, clearly in shock.

"Yep," Buffy agreed.

"Anyone else waiting for it to go 'poof'?" Willow asked hopefully. "Maybe we can cover it with flowers," she said when the body disobligingly remained where it was.

To the other side of the room, the senior Harris was starting in again. Spike felt his fingers itching to give the old man a good thumping. No wonder the boy was afraid of marriage. Prodded by the old man's surly words, the fighting between humans and demons began anew until Anya shouted, "Stop it! Everyone sit down!" When she had their attention, she continued, "The wedding will go on! Now get in your seats!"

The assembled crowd trickled back into the main room, shooting glances at each other. Spike remained near the doors, however, listening in on what Anya and Xander were saying to each other. The boy looked like he was about to bolt again, and Spike wasn't planning on letting him.

"Hey, it's okay," Anya was saying. "It's all over. He's dead. And it was just smoke and mirrors".

"I know".

"So, we're ready now. Let's go get married".

"I – I'm not. Ready to get married. I'm sorry, Ahn".

Her voice rose. "But it wasn't real. What he showed you. It wasn't -".

"But… it could be".

Spike listened with dismay as the two of them went back and forth like that. When Xander looked up, his bleak eyes fixed on his drunken parents' ugly fighting in the background, Spike couldn't stand by any longer. He moved directly into Xander's line of sight, fixing him with a steely gaze.

It was a moment before the young man's eyes focused on Spike. He stared at him, then nodded slowly at the implied reminder of their earlier conversation, shoulders straightening.

"This is forever, Ahn. And I don't want to ever hurt you. Not that way". He took her hand. "So I won't, I promise. That's not the man I'm going to be".

"O-okay," Anya said, confused. "So does this mean…?"

"Yes. Let's go get married".


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's Notes:** I probably won't post so frequently for a few days. :(

But in the meantime (if, say, you're bored and miss me), I highly recommend Anaross. Brilliantly complex and true to canon tragic heroes, with Jossian humor underlying it all. Another idol of mine (be forewarned, she really makes them work for the Spuffy). anaross DOT livejournal DOT com (links to completed stories on the right).

On with the show!

* * *

The reception was winding down. Somehow, the ceremony itself had touched both sides so deeply that they'd managed to come together to make it a day worth remembering – and in a good way, despite the earlier brawl. Maybe it was Anya's vow to always be Xander's sex poodle that had them all softening up.

Spike leaned back lazily in his chair, his arm thrown around the back of Buffy's. She smiled radiantly at the happy couple dancing on the floor, her foot tapping to the beat. Watching her, lines of poetry formed spontaneously inside his head.

"Want to dance?" he offered.

She turned to him, the light dimming in her eyes. "No, thanks. I think I'm just going to… rest".

He winced. It hurt him to see this once powerful, vibrant woman reduced to sitting on the sidelines, watching life, afraid of the pain that was sure to come. Spike let his mind wander as she turned back to watch the newlyweds, her shoulders slumping now at the reminder of what she couldn't do.

Science and magic both had failed them so far. He wasn't about to admit defeat, but Buffy seemed ready to give in, and it was getting harder and harder to pull her out of the funks she was falling into these days. Spike wished…

Hold on.

Spike… _wished_.

His eyes scanned the crowd for Cecily – no, Halfrek – and found her at one of the tables, sitting next to that D'Hoffran bloke.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained, mate_.

He excused himself from his wife's side and approached the vengeance demon. "Got a little proposition for you, luv, if you care to talk shop".

Her eyelashes fluttered at him again in a way she must have thought was seductive. How could he have ever thought her attractive? Spike's insides roiled, but he kept his face pleasant.

"Certainly, William," she laughed breathlessly. He took her arm and led her outside, away from the noise, watching Buffy the while to make sure she hadn't noticed. Once the door to the hall had shut behind them she said, "I thought you and Buffy were an item. Or am I mistaken?"

He longed to put his fist through her sloe-eyed face. "Buffy's my wife. I did mean business, pet. I'd like to wreak some vengeance".

Halfrek frowned. "I… on whom?"

"The git that shot Buffy".

She steepled her fingers together. "I… I sense that he is beyond vengeance, William. He is dead, am I right?"

"Yeah, but… can't we still undo what he did somehow? He would have hated that… if he were still alive. Would be good payback".

She was all business now. "There are certain parameters I have to work within. I can't just go granting wishes willy-nilly. There has to be actual vengeance involved. Besides," she said dismissively, fluttering her hand, "why would I want to help the Slayer recover her health?"

Spike scowled, wondering how he could work this.

Anya spoke up from the doorway, startling him. "Buffy needs revenge on her mother. The woman hurt her terribly, and I know that falls within your parameters. It would be a valid wish". She turned to Spike. "I saw you two leaving and I was snooping. I hope you don't mind".

He shook his head, curious to see where the ex-demon was going with this, although he didn't like the idea of vengeance on Joyce.

Anya continued her angle. "When Buffy was fulfilling her duties as the Slayer a few years back, her mother turned on her for doing her job, which included killing the man she loved and sending him to hell in order to save the world. Joyce kicked Buffy out of the house, forcing her to leave town when she needed a mother's support the most. Now that she can't be the Slayer anymore, her mom is very happy about it. Too happy. If you were to help Buffy return to full health, it would cause her _bad_ mother no end of grief, worrying every night if this was the night her daughter would finally die. Again. Because she was able to resume her duties". Anya turned to Spike. "Hallie has a thing for bad parents. This would be right up her alley".

Spike smiled slowly, appreciating Anya's clever subterfuge. Joyce would actually worry less if Buffy were healed, a fact which Hallie probably already knew, but…

"Yes. I could work with that," the demon mused. "But again, why would I want to restore the Slayer to full health?"

"A favor," Spike said quickly. "I'll owe you – within reason. Anything that…"

"That doesn't tarnish the disgusting soul I see you have," Halfrek shuddered. "But still, a favor from William the Bloody. It would be a fine marker". She considered more. "I tell you what. I can do this as a favor to you and Anya for old time's sake. An extra wedding gift, since I'm feeling benevolent. And for that promised favor, of course".

"Deal," Spike replied. Better that than what she was now. The Slayer would understand. "Does Buffy need to make the wish then, or can I?"

Halfrek's face shifted to demonic, and she smiled malevolently. "Oh, as her husband, and therefore a son to this _bad_ mother, you're quite acceptable".

Spike eyed her warily. "No stretching the wish for unintended consequences, right? Just straight up restoring Buffy's health to what it should be -".

"Yes, yes," she interrupted impatiently. "I'm missing the party. Can we get on with it?"

He let his own demon come to fore, amber eyes menacing. "I mean it now. Anything _unpleasant_ happens because you felt like getting creative, and I will hunt you down, Halfrek, and enact my own vengeance so painfully that even D'Hoffran will shudder and bow before me".

The demon paled, her hand going unconsciously to her locket. "Yes. I understand".

He shook off his fangs. "Good. Then – I wish that Buffy would be restored to full physical health, the way she was before she was shot".

"Wish granted," she intoned. Her visage returned to human as well. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, William. I'll see you around," she said with a finger waggle and headed back inside.

Spike looked at Anya. "Did I do the right thing?" he asked, suddenly unsure.

"It's a bit late to worry about that, isn't it? Still, Hallie's a good sort. I don't think she tried to pull one over on you". She held the door open. "Why don't you go check on Buffy?"

He pulled her into a rough embrace. "Thanks, Anya. That was… you really came through".

She gave him a chipper smile. "Well, now you owe me as well. It was a good deal all around".

He chuckled and went inside, the new bride following behind him. Buffy was twisting in her seat, looking for him, and she smiled when she saw him. Spike scooped her up from her chair, twirling her around, the green fabric crinkling under his hands. "There you are," she laughed.

"Here I am," he agreed, giddy. "Let's dance, luv. Just one song, see how you feel".

"Okay. I do feel pretty good right now".

One song turned into two, then four, before she pulled him back to their table, laughing in amazement. "Something happened to me I think. I was just sitting there, after you left, and all of a sudden – poof – the pain in my chest was gone. Like my heart was suddenly healed".

Spike smiled broadly. "It worked then".

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What worked?"

"Do you trust me to look out for you?"

"Yes," she said softly, her green eyes brighter than even her dress. "I do".

"Make your goodbyes, pet. I'll take you home and tell you all about it".

* * *

"I can't believe you did that without asking me first!"

"I thought you said you trusted me," Spike countered tightly.

Buffy slumped. "I do… it's just… I'm pretty sure it's a decision I should have been in on. What with it being my heart and all. My body. And a vengeance demon…"

"I know. But I didn't want to say anything to you 'til I found out – didn't want to get your hopes up – 'n then it seemed like t'was best to take the deal while she was offering. Was worried if I went to ask you first, she might change her mind. I only wanted to help you, luv".

"I know," she grumbled. "Just – I don't like other people messing with my life without my permission. It so rarely turns out well". She softened, reaching for his hand. "But I get it. And for what it's worth, thank you Spike. It was a brilliant idea".

His face lit up. "So you're pleased, then?"

"No more stabbing pain. Seems like a good deal, as long as I get to stay Buffy". She dropped off the couch where they'd been sitting onto the floor, doing twenty rapid pushups without any difficulty. "Yep," she said as she bounced up, "this is good. Hmm… the night is young yet".

She cast a glance at the spare bedroom door, through which her mom and sister were sleeping. "Let's go patrol. I suddenly feel the need to play!" she grinned.

* * *

Buffy brushed the vamp dust off herself. "God, I _missed_ this!" she exclaimed. "How freaky do I sound right now?" she laughed, twirling joyfully. "I missed running around a cemetery killing monsters".

Spike regarded her in amusement. "Knew there was a reason I loved you. Bloodthirsty chit".

She poked him in the chest. "You're the bloodthirsty one, mister. It's my job to stop evil monsters like you".

He caught the light, teasing tone and played along. "Oh, please don't hurt me Slayer. I'll be good. Reform". He gave her his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes and she burst out laughing. Smiling at her care-free glee, he pulled her to him, her back to his chest, and pushed her long blonde hair aside to nibble at the base of her neck while she giggled breathily. He vamped and dragged his teeth up the column of her neck, scraping lightly.

"Oh, you bad vampire! You tricked me!" Buffy play-struggled in his grasp.

"Well, I am evil, you know," he murmured against her warm skin, hardening as she squirmed against him.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked breathlessly, wriggling against his erection in a pretense of escape.

His hand slid down her belly, down the front of her pants and into her damp knickers. "Was planning on eating you, luv," he hummed throatily. "Gobbling you up like a tasty little morsel".

"Hnngg yes… I mean… oh, no!" she squirmed against his hand. "I mean… gah!" she cried out as he slid his fingers along her slippery flesh, fangs nipping harder. She pulled his arm from her pants and twisted her hip into him, flipping him over her shoulder to land on the earth in front of her, then pounced on him. "No more screwing around. Let's just make with the fantastic screwing that I've had to forgo". She had her pants off and his as well before she was even finished talking.

"And you say vamps don't get you hot".

Buffy paused, poised above him, her green eyes locking with his. "One. One vamp. One incredible man who just happens to be vamp".

Spike smiled crookedly at her, appreciating her declaration, so different from the answer she'd once given him. "I love you too, pet".

Then he grabbed her hips and thrust roughly upward, sending Buffy's eyes rolling backwards in pleasure and bursting the tender moment. When he was fully sheathed in her, he flipped them, his leather dusting falling around them to conceal their bodies from any lingering eyes. "Let me remind you what you've been missing".

* * *

They walked in the front door well after dawn, hands clasped tightly, yawning and disheveled.

"Big night?" Dawn asked.

Buffy's head snapped in the direction of her voice. "M-morning!" she stammered. "Yep. Big night. Lots of baddies out there".

Dawn cocked her head, looking at Buffy's back. "Some vamp get rough with you?"

Buffy twisted to see down her back and noticed the grass stains. Well, stain would be more accurate. One giant green smear as far as the eye could see. "I guess the answer would be yes, he got rough enough," she muttered with a dirty look at Spike. He only leered at her, tongue skimming the tips of his teeth.

Dawn looked between them. "Way too much info. I'm just going to go back to my poptarts now," she gurgled, turning away quickly to the kitchen.

"Poptarts. I need sustenance too!" Buffy followed her. "So, um, big news," she told her sister.

"It better be G-rated. I'm traumatized enough by your sexcapades as it is".

Blushing, she replied, "Again, so your own fault. But. Guess what? My heart problems are finally healed".

Dawn stared at her, then commenced jumping and squealing excitedly, "Oh my God, oh my God, really?"

Buffy jumped and squealed with her until Spike's irritated voice rang out, "Oi! Shut it! Sensitive ears being damaged here!"

Joyce poked her bed-rumpled head in. "What's the commotion?" Buffy explained, and her mother joined in the celebratory tumult, albeit far more staidly than her daughters.

Spike eased into the small kitchen and slouched against the wall, regarding them with a mixture of exasperation and affection. Dawn grabbed his hand and pulled him into the huddle. "Come here, you big hero you!"

He bemusedly joined the Summers' women in their excited bouncing, grinning like a loon to see them all so happy.

* * *

When they had the apartment to themselves once more, they made good use of their bed without fear of being overheard by little sisters. Basking by his side in the afterglow, Buffy touched Spike hesitantly. "Remember when you told me any fantasy of mine…"

He rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbow, leering wickedly while he ran a hand over the swell of her hip. "What kind of nasty does my girl have in mind?"

"Well… now that I'm back to full strength… I was thinking about what we were playing at on patrol the other night".

Spike cocked his head. "You'll have to refresh my memory, pet".

Buffy tipped her own head, exposing her jugular. "You – big bad vamp, me – helpless girl…"

He stilled, tense, his eyes wild. "I – that one might be too much for me, Buffy".

"Oh. Okay. If you don't want to, that's okay. I just…" She bit her lip, then explained falteringly. "Long time ago. That girl. When you showed me you could feed without killing – you made it seem so sexy. It's been… in the back of my mind ever since then. And, you know, you reminded me how my blood is, um. What it does to you. So, I thought, since I'm all hale and hearty again it might be… But, if you're not comfortable…"

He silenced her. "Hold on. You fantasize about a vamp draining you while you're fucking?"

She blushed indignantly. "No. I fantasize about _you_ feeding from me while we make love – and then taking me for hours after because you can't help yourself".

"Oh. Well". He was momentarily speechless. "That's a bit different, then". He resumed his caress of her hip, contemplating what she'd suggested. His hard dick certainly agreed that the idea had merit. His soul, though…

"Let me think on it, pet". He nuzzled her hair. "There's no denying that certain parts of me are very intrigued with your idea. It's the afters I'm worried about. Not sure how I'm going to feel about myself knowing I've treated you as food – even if it is at your behest".

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – just forget it".

He shifted beside her so she could feel his arousal. "Like I'm going to be able to now, woman. It's – the idea of feeding from you was firmly in my 'never ever' slot. Have to give it some thought is all".

She rolled onto her side. "Okay. Whatever you decide. In the meantime…" she reached down and stroked him. "You've got a little problem I think I need to take care of".

Spike lay on his back to give her easier access. "Be my guest, kitten".


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Notes:**

I'm going to come right out and admit it: there is no consequence to the deal Spike made with Halfrek, at least not _during _this story. Maybe because she didn't get around to calling the favor in before the end. Maybe because it wasn't a big deal (she needed help moving?), and it doesn't pertain. Maybe someday I'll figure it out and write it as a one-shot.

There's a Spike comic where he meets up with Halfrek while in LA (during AS5 I presume), and she claims to have been a demon back in 1880 (she was working a job at the party). She also makes it clear that while William was beneath Cecily, Halfrek is more than interested in Spike. So I decided that she wouldn't try to screw Spike over with his wish since she wants him (everybody wants Spike!).

On the other hand, she was more than willing to let Anya suffer the consequences of Dawn's wish in canon... so... who's to say?

* * *

It was the last Scooby meeting of the summer, before the start of fall classes. Giles, as had been his habit for the past year, was heading back to England for several weeks, "Until the next crisis calls me back," and they were throwing him a farewell party.

"You know, this might have more meaning if you actually stayed gone," Anya grumbled. "I feel like you're looming over my shoulder all the time, watching me. Waiting for me to misplace the money, which you should know I would never do".

Giles made to retort but Buffy cut him off. "Nuh-uh, he's looming over my shoulder," she teased. "Making sure I'm keeping up with my Slayer duties".

His answer was cut off by Spike this time. "Think it's me he's doing the looming on. Making sure I'm taking proper care of his precious Slayer".

Xander pouted. "And don't I feel like the red-headed stepchild. Giles does no looming in my life".

"Yeah, well, sooner you learn no one cares about you mate, better off you'll be," Spike goaded.

"Xander," Giles finally managed to get out. "Tell me, how is the rebuilding of the high school going?"

Xander stuck his tongue out at Spike. "I'll see your taunt and raise you a whole lot of, oh yeah, he cares!"

Giles rolled his eyes.

"It's going great G-man. You know, money-wise. Very financially lucrative. And – I have the building plans to compare to the old ones once Willow brings them. Where is she anyhow?"

"Meeting with the L.A. coven," Buffy said. "She said she might be late with-"

At that moment the redhead burst in, frantic, Tara hurrying behind her. "It has teeth!" she blurted out. "Actual teeth, although maybe only metaphorically, but it was huge and evil and did I mention the teeth?"

"Whoa, slow down there Wills," Xander said. "What has teeth?"

"The Hellmouth," Tara said quietly when it appeared that Willow was too flustered to speak. "I- I didn't see it myself, but I felt it. Evil rising".

Giles looked at Xander. "I wonder if this has anything to do with the high school being rebuilt. Why now of all times?"

"Oh – I have the old building plans!" Willow exclaimed. "Here!" She took out a large set of blueprints and unrolled them on the table. Xander retrieved his set and overlaid them.

"The Hellmouth opens under the principal's office?" Buffy asked worriedly. "That can't be good, can it? Do you think he's evil?"

"At the very least in some danger. I do believe a scouting trip is in order," Giles said. "On the first day of school. You'll have to find some reason to be there and meet with the principal. Assess the situation".

"Too bad Dawnie is going to Stackhorn High up in Sacramento," Buffy complained. "She'd make a perfect excuse".

"She still can be," Tara suggested. "Just say you're scoping it out for her. You know, say she's thinking about moving back".

"Clever," Spike said. The blonde witch smiled at him, and he turned to Willow. "Tell us more about this vision, Red".

She described what she had seen. The mood grew somber as they took it in.

"I – I've been feeling _something_," Spike told the others when she had finished. Nothing I could put my finger on, but… this phrase sticks in my mind… 'From beneath you…'"

"It devours," Buffy finished quietly. They all spun to look at her. "I've been having dreams. Slayer dreams, I guess. Of girls being chased and killed. Not… not Slayers. Modern girls – alive today – or well… they were. Maybe not now".

"Killed by whom?" Giles queried.

"I don't know. It's very – I never see their faces. But the girls, they're from all over. Different countries".

Giles frowned. "I shall look into it when I return to the Council… I have a theory…" Whatever the theory, he didn't share.

"So. I take it we have our new Big Bad coming," Buffy stated.

"Looks like it," Giles said.

Buffy sighed. "Well, at least things will go back to feeling normal. I mean, was I the only one who was wigged out by the lack of impending apocalypse last year?"

* * *

Buffy and Spike had been undergoing their reconnaissance mission under the cover of the students milling about, but as the young people filtered into class they began to feel exposed. She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the front doors. "Why don't we come back later," she whispered.

From behind, Buffy heard, "Can I help you two?" _So much for anonymity._ She turned to see a handsome black man smiling expectantly at them. "Robin Wood. I'm the new principal".

Spike stuck out his hand when Buffy hesitated. "Hallo. I'm William, and this is my wife. Her younger sister is considering moving in with us, getting away from her mum for a bit, so we're checking out the new high school on her behalf".

"Ah. That's very considerate of you". He held his hand out to Buffy. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name".

She smiled artlessly. "I'm Buffy. Buffy Summers. I'm a little taken aback – you seem so young to be a principal".

"I moisturize," he deadpanned. "You know, I have actually heard of you Ms. Summers. You graduated from the old high school, am I right?"

Buffy was troubled by his declaration. "Uh, yeah, how did you -?"

"I'm sorry, I need to get back to work. Got to start deadening young minds. Feel free to look around".

"That was suspicious," Buffy muttered lowly, so only the vampire beside her could hear.

"'Least we have free reign of the building now without raising any misgivings," Spike replied.

Which was why they were conveniently already on campus when the angry spirits manifested, and able to dispatch them without anyone the wiser.

Except for Principal Wood. "Curiouser and curiouser," he said from behind once more.

"What is? You is?" Buffy replied, startled by his sudden appearance. Spike had gone to relay the news of the big hole in the bathroom floor to Xander, and she hadn't been aware of the principal's approach.

"Carlos Trejo and Kit Holburn. Possibly the only two students in this school with files as thick as yours".

"Boy, you really did do your homework".

"You've got those two socializing and hugging, and if I'm not mistaken, actually headed to class".

"Well. We shared an… encounter. Say, I was wondering, do you have a martial arts or self-defense club?" Buffy rushed out. The principal seemed to be experiencing positive feelings towards her, so she tested the cover story she and Spike had worked up to obtain regular access to the school.

"Can't say as we do. Why?" Principal Wood replied.

"'Cause Buffy here is an MMA champion and she'd like to offer her services to the school," Spike said, having arrived just as silently as the principal had earlier.

_Bells,_ Buffy thought. _I'm going to invest in bells for the lot of them_.

"Right," she added. "It – it helped me get on the straight and narrow – get over that thick file you were mentioning – and I'd like to bring the same opportunity to the other students here. And Sp- William would help me. He's an expert as well".

Principal Wood eyed Buffy, then concluded, "But you're so tiny!"

Spike bristled. "Appearances are deceiving, mate, yeah? Mr. Moisturizer?"

He laughed. "Please, call me Robin instead. I haven't much in the way of funds, but I do have a small community outreach program, gets people from the town to teach electives and such…"

"Oh!" Buffy exclaimed, surprised by his offer. "I hadn't expected to be paid!"

"Well, you understand you would have to use that money for whatever supplies you needed, so I wouldn't call it being paid, exactly, but… how often were you planning on meeting?"

"I have classes at the U that I'd have to work around, but my husband is more flexible. So I guess it depends when the gym is available".

"Of course. Why don't you go by the office and find out, then give me a call when you've worked up a feasible schedule?"

Buffy smiled winningly. "Sure. Great! Thank you!"

"Thank you, Ms. Summers," Robin replied, taking her hand.

"Buffy. And William," she corrected him. Robin shook Spike's hand as well.

"Well that went better than I expected," she told Spike as they left.

"Certainly will make it a bit easier to keep an eye on the Hellmouth".

* * *

Buffy burrowed into Spike's arms. "I don't understand. We were there. We stopped the ritual. We stopped those boys from killing Cassie, sent the demon back to hell. I caught the booby trap arrow that was headed for her heart. And then she still … died".

"Of natural causes. Congenital heart failure. Nothing you could have done, luv".

* * *

"Am I the only one who's feeling miffed here?" Spike scowled from the door of the Magic Box.

"I'm with you, bleach boy," Xander put in.

"I'm n-not really liking what's happening either," Tara added.

Spike stared helplessly at the scene before him, along with the other two standing by his side. Buffy, Willow and Anya were arguing viciously over who loved some bloke named R.J. most.

"I saw him first!" Buffy protested. "He's mine! And I'll prove my love for him!"

"No, no," Willow countered. "It's easy to see who loves him most. I clearly do, since I'm, you know, looking past the whole orientation thing".

"You gotta do better than that," Anya interjected. "I'd kill for him".

"You'd kill for a chocolate bar," Willow snarked.

"Ooh, kill! Yes! Kill for him. I'm a Slayer. Slay means kill. I can kill the principal for him!"

"Hmmm. That is hard to top," Anya reflected.

"Yeah? Well I have magic skills. I can prove my love with magic," Willow reminded the others.

"Yeah right. What are you going to do? Use magic to make him into a girl?" Willow's face lit up at the suggestion. "Damn," Anya bit out.

Xander spoke up. "Please tell me it's a love spell gone wrong?" he begged Spike.

At that moment the three lovelorn women sprang up, scattering to implement their plans to prove their devotion.

"W-wait! Where are you going?" Tara cried.

"I have a spell to do," Willow answered coolly, brushing her lover aside.

Spike, meanwhile, was too busy trying to corral the Slayer to help the others. "Look," Buffy was saying as she tried to duck under his outstretched arms. "I know we were in love, but it really is nothing compared to what I have with R.J. I know his soul. I'm sorry Spike, but I don't love you anymore".

"Like hell you don't," he growled as she quickly bolted past him.

"What should we do?" Xander huffed out, struggling with a frantic Anya.

"Let me go! The other two will get to R.J. first, Xander!"

"Get to… let her go, Harris". Spike stepped in front of Anya as she tried to run. "Tell me, do you know where R.J. is? I'd like to meet him. Congratulate the both of you on your ever-lasting love," he choked out.

She paused. "Oh. Yes. That would be fine indeed. I know exactly where he lives".

Spike, Xander and Tara followed Anya out the door. "What about the others?" Tara whispered fearfully.

"We can't stop those two," Xander whispered back. "Not without losing parts – and that goes for either Buffy or Willow. I think it's best to find this R.J. and stop the spell". He watched his new bride walking determinedly forward. "Quickly".

When Anya knocked on a door, Xander stepped back in surprise. "Lance?"

"You know this tosser?" Spike ground out, on edge. Buffy could have offed Wood by now, and he knew he had little chance of stopping her if he tried to fight her. She'd knocked him out cold the last time they'd tangled.

"We went to high school together," Xander said, his voice reflecting his confusion. "But he was, like… king of the high school. Now he's…"

"A bigger loser than you?"

Xander glared at him.

Anya was inside, talking to Lance. "Oh look. You're wearing R.J.'s jacket," she cooed, holding up a picture of Lance in a letter jacket.

"No, baby, he's wearing mine. I tell you, there was a time I was worried about that kid. He was a real geek, you know..."

Spike listened to wanker prattle on, impatient to find this R.J. He heard Xander say, "So Lance, where did _you_ get the jacket?" and then the explanation the moron gave about his father and the coat.

"Where's R.J.?" he cut in when he'd heard enough to be clear.

* * *

"You sure you understand the plan?" Xander asked.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I think I got it," he said as he made to run at R.J. and his jacket.

* * *

Buffy stumbled forward, the rocket launcher slipping from her shoulder where it was aimed at – hold that thought.

_Rocket launcher_?

* * *

"So…" she laughed too loudly, too brightly, to cover her discomfort. "Guess that was pretty funny, huh?"

Spike glowered at her from his spot by the kitchen counter.

"Oh, come on baby. It was a spell. You know you're the one I love," she whimpered. "Don't punish me for something I couldn't help".

One scarred eyebrow rose. "Punish you, you say?"

* * *

Spike glanced uneasily behind him as he skulked through the basement. Every time he'd visited the high school for the last couple weeks, the basement had called to him, pulling his demon down into the bowels of the building. He knew the opening to the bloody Hellmouth was down here, and the thought that it affected him so was making him anxious.

He walked along the underground corridors, turning his head to the left and the right, trying to suss out just what was driving him down here. More than once he could have sworn that Buffy had followed him down into the basement, talking to him, even though he'd known she was at class.

Not only that, but the things Buffy had said… he was fairly certain it wasn't really her. She'd mocked him, mocked his soul, mocked his love for her. As insecure as he might be, he didn't believe she had it in her to be so cruel.

Another time he had thought Drusilla was walking beside him, chattering insanely about power, Miss Edith and the stars. However, it was when his mother appeared by his side, reminding him how he'd disappointed her, that he began to worry. Something was playing with him.

Spike figured whatever was toying with him, it couldn't be good – and since it seemed to be connected to the Hellmouth, it seemed reasonable to assume it was the Big Bad flavor of the year.

He hesitated to mention the apparitions to Buffy though, afraid of being nothing but bug-shagging crazy once more.

Finding yet again nothing substantial in his tour of the basement, Spike climbed the stairs and went home for the day.

* * *

Xander walked into the Magic Box, bearing an assortment of jelly doughnuts for the gang to munch on while they conducted their Saturday morning meeting. Anya greeted him with a kiss.

"So guys, what's the scoop?" he asked jovially.

"Anya was just about to tell us something interesting," Buffy replied.

"Halfrek stopped by yesterday evening when I was closing up the shop," the ex-demon informed the others. "She wanted to warn me that something big was coming. She said…"

"Let me guess," Buffy interjected. "From beneath you, it devours". Anya nodded. "I've been hearing it all over town. Seems like every demon I've run across lately has the same tired old message to share. Whatever our Big Bad is, I wish they would just introduce themselves and get it over with so we can make with the fighty. I'm getting tired of waiting around for it to poke its ugly head out".

"Have a feeling whatever our nasty is, it likes to play a good game," Spike muttered grumpily.

* * *

Buffy was approaching him slowly, her hand cupping the flickering flame of a single candle tucked into a cupcake, trying to keep it from guttering out as she walked.

"What's this then?" he asked from the bed, stretching awake and sitting up, the sheet pooling about his hips.

"It's, um… like happy birthday? Happy… soul day?" she answered with a nervous grin as he stilled completely. "It's like a rebirth, you know, your soul getting put back in you… being born again… but without all the fanatical connotations…" she babbled. "Figured it was an important thing to celebrate".

Spike moved to meet her, his hand linking with hers, protecting the small flame. "You're something else, Slayer".

"Well, in this case, I'm pretty sure you're the something else. Fighting for a soul and all that". She held the cupcake higher. "Make a wish".

Spike pursed his lips to blow, his eyes locked on hers. "Already got everything I want," he said, then blew gently, extinguishing the candle.

"Sap," she smiled at him. "So… got any wise tidbits to share? Life lessons learned this past year?"

He considered for a moment. "Yeah. Soul or not, you gotta be… what's the word? Self-actualized. To be happy".

Buffy cocked an eyebrow at him. "That's it. No more Dr. Phil for you". She hesitated, then said, "And are you?"

"Thought I was. Before. Now I know I – well, there's always more, right? But I'm pretty sure I'm approaching even my considerable maximum potential now".

She snorted. "Full of yourself, aren't you?"

Spike grabbed her around the waist and tossed her to the bed. "You're just jealous 'cause you're not full of me at the moment". He cut off her come back, deepening his voice as he pried the now-squashed cupcake from her hand and licked the frosting slowly. "Gonna fix that, yeah?"

Buffy didn't have any breath left for a retort.

* * *

When they returned home from Thanksgiving with the Summers women in Sacramento, Spike stuck his head in the freezer and realized they were down to their last two bags of blood. With a sigh he headed for the butcher's shop to pick up more. He figured while he was there he ought to pick up some steaks too, it being their anniversary next week. In case Buffy wanted to spend the night in. The smile that graced his face at the thought seemed out of place as he swaggered into the shop, all piss and vinegar.

Attitude in place, Spike nevertheless waited politely (_hello, soul_) while the little fellow in front of him paid for his order. When the bloke turned away with his purchases, Spike paid him no mind, stepping forward to place his own order.

Apparently the little twerp was a mite more impressed by Spike's presence than Spike had been by his, taking a frightened step backwards and dropping his large paper bag with a squeak when he saw who was behind him.

The commotion drew the vampire's attention, and he pursed his lips as he assessed the boy. The first thing to draw his notice was the squeaker's mode of dress. Black pants. Black shirt. Black… duster? Spike's frown of confusion deepened to a glare. Whoever this prat was, he had pretensions of being William the Bloody, and that didn't sit well with the real thing standing before him. No wonder the bloody tosser was trembling like a leaf.

Spike toed the sack he'd dropped, only half-surprised to see the many bags of blood spilling out. "What the sodding hell are you playing at, you prat?" he growled. "You one of those vamp wannabes?"

The kid turned and ran out of the shop, squealing like a pig. Spike was startled by just how quickly he'd managed to run, but it was only a moment's hesitation before he was after him, pinning him in the alley behind the shop.

"Mind telling me what's going on?"

"Don't kill me!"

So the little boy knew who – what – he was. Obviously, since he was mimicking him for some unfathomable reason. Spike cocked his head and studied him, trying to place his face.

"Maybe I'll kill you, maybe I won't…" he threatened. "Convince me not to".

"Warren did it. I didn't do it. Warren shot her" the tosser babbled.

Shot her. Shot Buffy. Just like that, the memory snapped into place. One of the nerds that had been with Warren before Buffy had shut them down. The Scoobies had heard that the pair of them had escaped from jail, and now this one was back.

"What are you doing here?" Spike asked softly, the emergence of his bumpies belying his calm demeanor.

"I'm not bad. I'm not bad anymore. I'm good. I do good things now," he stuttered rapidly. "I'm here doing good things".

_Andrew_. The name suddenly came to him.

"If you're doing good things, _Andrew_, what do you need so much blood for?"

Andrew squeaked and launched into some story, but Spike didn't have the patience for it. "Never you mind, save it for the Slayer," he shut Andrew up. "You're cutting into my feeding time," he grumbled as he took hold of the boy's arm and dragged him home.

* * *

"I'm home!" Buffy called out as she walked in the door. "I have -". She stopped short at the sight that greeted her. "A nerd tied up in my kitchen chair," she finished lightly. "What gives?"

"Look what I found today, buying lots of blood. And," Spike held up Andrew's coat in disgust, "playing at fan club. Haven't sussed out why yet".

"Oh honey, are you worried somebody might give you a run for 'the worst dresser ever' award this year?"

Andrew tittered nervously while Spike growled at her. "Ha bloody ha, Slayer. Since you're in such a fine mood, why don't you take over the torture bit. I'm feeling peckish, and nerd-boy here is starting to smell mighty tempting. 'M gonna head back to the butcher and finish that order I started earlier".

Buffy stopped him in the hallway outside their apartment with a small hand on his arm. "Hey, don't I at least get a kiss hello?"

His face softened immediately. "Of course, pet". Spike drew her to him, his lips grazing hers, then parting to let his tongue caress the entrance to her mouth. Her lips fell open at his prompting and her own tongue eagerly drew his in.

"Well, howdy. Been looking forward to that all day," she said with sparkling eyes when he let her go. She could tell Spike was beginning to reconsider his shopping expedition by the way his eyes slid down her body. "Go on, get out of here," she admonished him with a playful slap to his ass. "I don't want any cranky vampires around the prisoners".

* * *

Buffy bit back an exasperated sigh. Between the lies and the tangents, Andrew had told her nothing useful.

"Look. Spike's going to be back any minute, and let me tell you, he's not going to be happy about giving up our cuddle time to question you".

Eyes widening, Andrew repeated, "C-cuddle time? The Vampyre Spike truly has seduced the Slayer to the dark side?"

"Yes," she rolled her eyes. "I'm all evil now. So you'll believe me when I say, if you don't want Spike to eat you for dinner, you better start talking".

His eyes darted around the apartment, finally realizing that, yes, she and Spike were a couple, and _yes_, the Slayer just might let the evil vampire make a meal out of him. "I- it started when we were in Mexico. Me and Jonathon. In our dreams, we kept hearing '_Desde abajo te devora' _– meaning, _it eats you, starting with your bottom_".

Buffy flinched. _From beneath you, it devours_, she re-translated. Even in Mexico. Well, not a surprise – her own dreams had been world-class travelers themselves, lately. Maybe she could finally get to the bottom of it, figure out what exactly this new threat was.

"Keep going," she commanded.


	60. Chapter 60

**Author's Notes:**

Originally this was a much longer chapter, but I've split it into two, which means a) you get a whole extra chapter and b) I get to leave you on a much angstier note!

* * *

"Can I say, once again, that I am so not liking this plan?" Xander complained. "I'm just saying – a seal that is the entrance to the Hellmouth? Sounds like something we should be staying away from".

"And we will," Buffy snapped. "Just as soon as we cover it back up. We can't leave it exposed for whatever happens along to find it. Or – students. Students go down there all the time. We need to take care of this immediately".

"Have a feeling we're too late," Spike said, doing his level best not to show his anxiety. The pull from the basement was stronger than ever.

"Too late? Why?" Buffy scowled.

"Have a gander for yourself," he answered, pulling the door open to reveal the unmistakable sound of screams his sensitive ears had picked up moments earlier.

"Uh, guys? You can find it on your own now, right?" Andrew tried to pull away from them, but Spike tightened his grip.

"Keep a move on, you git".

Xander fell back. "I'll let you guys take the lead," he whispered as they crept forward.

"Bloody hell!" Spike murmured when they reached the chamber. A young man was bound to a large wooden circle that hung over what was obviously the uncovered seal, blood splattering downwards from the symbols carved into his chest. A dozen or so hooded men encircled the seal, chanting almost inaudibly, their eyes carved out of their heads, much to Spike's horror.

"Seal opening. Satanic manhole covering being opened!" Xander moaned in terror under his breath.

"This wasn't here before. I had nothing to do with this… I don't think I want to be here," Andrew gulped.

Cuffing him on the back of the head, Buffy snarled, "Well, it was your great plan to open the seal in the first place, moron. How do we stop it?"

"I- I don't know. Take away the blood, I guess".

"And I'm thinking, hurry Slayer," Spike added, nostrils twitching at the scent of fresh hot blood being spilled. He thrust Andrew at Xander. "You hold the boy wonder, we'll stop the bloodbath".

Spike and Buffy leapt forward just as the Seal of Danzalthar began to open, one section at a time, revealing an intensely bright light. Buffy moved to release the almost dead sacrifice while Spike aimed for the disfigured chanters. Within moments she was at his side, slaying the robed figures as quickly as he was. Spike was dismayed to see the seal continued to open – _got all the blood it needed already_ – but he didn't let it distract him. Just as the last of the men guarding the seal fell to the ground, it opened fully to reveal a deep, dark hole.

Drawn against his will, Xander moved forward to peer into the abyss, leaping backwards when a grey taloned hand reached up and rested on the edge.

"Xander – run!" Buffy told him. He did as she ordered, turning tail with Andrew close behind. "How we gonna close this thing?" she asked Spike as she hefted her axe, fear making her voice discordant.

"Dunno, pet. Have to wing this one, I'm guessing".

The creature had pulled itself fully out of the hole now, and Spike gaped at the thing facing them. It was uglier than the Master, uglier even than the Prince of Lies or any other ancient vampire he'd ever seen. For it was definitely a vampire, of that he was certain. Another hand extended from the open seal, on the heels of the first vamp.

"Shit," Buffy exclaimed. "And here I was hoping for just one". She advanced warily, circling the vampire.

"Isn't he lovely," Drusilla crooned from Spike's other side. His head snapped towards her, and then back to Buffy. "She can't see me, my prince. Only you. And my darling boy there," she nodded towards the vamp. "I wanted you to know what a real vampire looks like, my sweet. Since you've turned into such a pathetic excuse for a bloodsucker. Not nice to stay in the sunshine like you have. Needed to find myself a new dark prince to take your place".

"You're not Dru," he growled softly.

"And you're not a man". Dru had disappeared, to be replaced by a Buffy identically dressed to the one who was now trading blows with the vampire. Spike ignored her to engage the second creature that had climbed from the seal. A quick glance revealed no more escapees from the Hellmouth, but Spike wasn't holding his needless breath on that point. He had a feeling there were more than two of them.

"You can close the seal, you know," not-Buffy said conversationally. "Play the hero. I know how you like to do that". Despite himself, Spike glanced at her, wondering if she – it – would really tell them how to do that.

The false Buffy smiled cruelly. "Yes Spike, you can do it. All you have to do is finish off that guy over there. You know how these things work. It has to have the blood, and once the blood starts flowing…"

"It doesn't close until it stops," he ground out in between blows. "Yeah. I'm not killing anybody for you, bitch, sorry".

She shrugged uncaringly. "It's up to you. The longer it stays open, the more of my guys escape. Fastest way to do it is to give the seal what it wants. Heart's blood". She cast a glance at the limp body of the man lying in the corner. "He could last for hours yet, and even then it wouldn't be over. It'll take more than his death to close the seal".

Morphing back into Dru, she continued speaking. "And my poor dears have such buckets of energy. Been cooped up for so long, laying in wait for their moment. Since before the first bug walked. How many of them do you think you can stop? And little girls tear so easily… Like pink paper…"

Two more vampiric heads appeared through the seal, clambering up to join the fray, and Spike considered his options. The thing aping Dru was right. No matter how much stronger Buffy was nowadays, these creatures were superior to most anything she had ever faced. Already the scent of Buffy's blood was strong, running freely from cuts the talons had inflicted upon her. Spike stared in dismay when she staked the thing and the wooden weapon in her grip simply shattered against its breastbone. Buffy stepped back, panicked.

"The axe, luv! Go for the head," he called out to her. She nodded in determination and dove for the weapon she'd dropped. Meanwhile, he had his own monster to kill. He wished he had more than just the shovel he'd tossed aside. If only he'd thought to bring along a broadsword. These bastards did not die easy.

His mind whirled as he fought. Spike knew he was hot-headed. Rash. Impulsive. Prone to biting off more than he could chew. Despite those traits, he had survived over a century as a vampire. And that was because he also had a practical streak a mile wide. That seemingly glaring contradiction had saved his and Drusilla's hides countless times.

It was the realistic side of him that was considering what the not-Buffy had told him. All he had to do to stop more super-vamps from escaping was end one life… one _innocent_ life. If she was telling the truth. He swallowed hard as he ducked the swinging arm of his own opponent, never losing sight of the newest guests at the party, one now fully emerged, the other halfway out.

_Bollocks_.

The half-drained bloke had no chance of surviving, he told himself. If Spike didn't kill the poor tosser, he'd likely expire quietly in the corner on his own while the heroes were busy battling the hordes of demons escaping the Hellmouth. Be doing him a favor really, putting him out of his misery.

That line of reasoning did little to stop the twisting in his gut.

"See all our friends as they come squirming up from out the earth," Drusilla crooned, writhing to unheard music.

Buffy managed to decapitate her opponent, its body exploding outward into dust. The third vamp looked at her and then took off, running from the room. Spike made his decision as yet another hand appeared on the edge of the hole.

"You chase it down, Buffy, I'll hold these back," he yelled, digging his shoulder in and driving the ugly creature back towards the open hole, hoping to send it back down into the hell it had escaped. He managed to drive the vampire to the edge of the seal, where it accidentally knocked the one who had just climbed out back in, along with the newest potential escapee, the grey forms tumbling into the darkness below. Unfortunately the original vampire remained on its feet, diving to the side at the last moment and almost sending Spike plummeting down in its place. Spike immediately abandoned his efforts and ran to the unconscious man in the corner.

"'M sorry mate," he whispered raggedly as he dragged the human back towards the gaping seal, dodging the creature trying to trap him. When he reached the open pit, he dug his fingers into the man's chest, ripping the cuts open, digging further until he had a hold of the man's barely beating heart. With a shudder, he ripped it out and squeezed it, spreading the blood around the perimeter of the seal, then raised his palms to his mouth as if by instinct, tongue darting out to lick them clean. With a groan he stopped, his blood-soaked hands balling into fists as he dropped them to his side.

"C'mon, c'mon," he grunted as yet another grey taloned hand poked up from the opening, refusing to let himself consider what he'd done. He'd deal with the soul-crushing guilt later. "Close, will you?" With a sudden flare of light, the seal snapped shut, severing the emergent arm from the body below.

"Right then," he snarled. "Guess that just leaves you and me, ugly". Spike renewed the fight with the remaining vampire, thanking whatever deity might be listening for the Gem of Amarra. He might not be winning this fight, but at least he wasn't losing it either.

"Spike!" he heard, and he turned to see the axe spinning at him end over end. Without missing a beat he reached up and snagged it from the air, then whirled and decapitated the vampire in front of him, grunting in satisfaction when it exploded into dust.

He rushed to Buffy's side. "How you holding up, pet?"

"I'm holding, and I'm up, but that's it. Number three got away from me," she grimaced in disgust as she sagged against the wall. "And hey, what the hell are those things?"

"Some kind of vamp is my best guess. Xander and the boy?"

"Getting away in the getaway car. I called to make sure they were safe before I gave up the chase". She noticed the body then, eyes widening impossibly at the sight of the gaping chest. "Oh my God, what did that thing do to him?"

Spike paled, or would have had it been physiologically possible, but he didn't correct her. "Let's – let's get him upstairs, drop him somewhere the cops will find him," he said, hoping the tremor in his voice wasn't noticeable to Buffy. "See the ring?" he pointed out the man's wedding band. "Somebody's going to be missing him". The tremor became more pronounced. "At least… at least they won't have to wonder what happened to him".

He scooped the corpse up and headed for the exit. "You go ahead," Buffy called to him. "I _really_ want to cover this seal up before we leave. I'll meet you at home". He hesitated, not wanting to leave her in the state she was in, but she insisted. "Go on. I'm okay".

He nodded and turned. Grateful, actually, for the solitude. His mind was spinning with recriminations and he needed time. Time to examine what he'd done, to try to justify it to himself before he tried to justify it to the Slayer.

Spike strode down the corridors leading back to the stairs. "Change your mind?" he asked gruffly when he realized Buffy was right beside him.

She looked behind her. "Oh, no silly, I'm still covering up the seal. Not that it will do any good. It's gotten the taste for blood now… and it's hungry for more".

Spike shied away, eyes closed in despair. When he opened them again she was gone, but his mother was keeping pace by his side.

"Really, William, how could you hide what you did from Buffy? Are you ashamed of yourself? I thought I taught you better than to lie to a lady". She gave a tiny laugh. "Of course, I also taught you better than to kill your mother and turn her into a monster. I suppose you're just a bad seed. Can't be helped".

He stopped dead in his tracks, shaking. "Sod off!" he screamed.

His mother regarded him sadly. "No, you're not a hero after all, are you?" she asked, then winked out of existence.

Panting wildly, Spike moaned low in throat, an agonized guttural sound. His feverish eyes searched the surroundings, but he was quite alone once more.

If you didn't count his latest victim slung over his shoulder.


	61. Chapter 61

**Author's Notes: **Will Buffy forgive Spike? _Should_ Buffy forgive Spike?

* * *

Spike was just leaving the corpse outside the police station when she called him. "Hey – change of plans. We're meeting at the Magic Box, emergency session".

"Buffy," he said quietly.

"What is it?" she asked, noting his tone.

"I – that man. That they were carving up. _I_ killed him. Not the other vampire". He had to get it out now. And, coward that he was, he didn't want to see her face at his admission. The sharp hiss of inhalation was bad enough. "T'was the only way to close the seal," he went on. "Once the blood started, the seal wouldn't close until… It was the only way to shut it, keep more and more vamps from escaping. That's what she told me".

Her tone was frigid. "She?"

"Something. You couldn't see her – it. It… I'll explain it when I get there," Spike said, his voice hollow with the despair he felt.

* * *

"I know what our Big Bad is," Buffy announced when they were all gathered. "The First".

The others only looked at her in confusion. "The First?" Andrew said. "The First what? What a terrible name. It doesn't strike fear quite like, say Lex Luthor or Voldemort".

"Shut up," Buffy said absently. "The chant-y alphabet eye guys. I know them. I've tangled with them before". Her voice trembled and she fought to steady it. "They're the Bringers of the First Evil. And despite the name," she said with a glower at Andrew, "we _are_ talking Evil with a capital 'E'. As in, when I ran into it before, it claimed it was the original evil, the one that came before everything else".

"Oh please," Anya said. "How many times did I hear that in my demon days? 'I'm so rotten they don't even have a name for it… I'm baddy bad bad bad. Does it make you horny?'" At their startled looks she added, "Or terrified. Whatever".

"It wasn't a line," Buffy countered. "When I came up against this thing before, I felt it. It was ancient… and enormous. It almost got Angel to kill himself. He would have, if the Powers hadn't intervened".

"More's the pity," Spike muttered to himself.

"And the scary-ass vampire things?" Xander asked.

"Certainly gives teeth to the 'From beneath you, it devours' catchphrase," Willow said. "And do you remember the teeth? From the vision? I told you about the teeth".

"We remember," Tara said with a shudder. The two of them leaned into each other.

"So it has these badass vampires," Andrew said. "So what? You guys took care of them, closed the seal. What's the big?"

"It's more than just that. I know – it made Angel see things that weren't real. Which leads me to believe your good buddy Warren – not so much Warren. Pretty sure he was a manifestation of the First. I think it uses – call them ghosts – to manipulate people into doing what it wants".

Spike leapt up and began to prowl nervously about the room. Buffy watched his progress, knowing instinctively he was hiding something from her. "Spike? Do you have something to share?"

He halted mid-step, startled, eyes wide. He began to shake his head in denial then thought better of it. "Think it's been appearing to me," he admitted. "Been talking to me. In the basement".

"The 'she' that told you how to close the seal," Buffy supplied coolly.

"Yeah. But not just then. For a couple of weeks now. Every time I'm at the school, I find myself down there, and… I have company. That I know isn't real". He gave her an anguished look. "Thought it was like before… in Africa. Thought I was losing my mind again".

"Well, buck up because you're not," Anya said cheerfully. "You're only being manipulated by pure Evil".

Buffy swung her head to stare at Anya, then turned back to Spike, wondering if she was right. "And have you been? Manipulated?"

He shrugged helplessly. "Only tonight. But – well, don't know why it told me how, but it did get the job done. Got the seal – sealed. Haven't done anything worse".

The others looked at each other in confusion, but Buffy didn't share Spike's confession. Now was not the time to deal with the fear and the anger and the disappointment battling in her heart.

"Worse? Worse how?" Andrew wondered.

"I don't know. Like, say, murdering your best friend?" Xander said scathingly.

"He's in a place of joy and peace. He told me," Andrew offered in a tiny voice.

"No. Nobody told you. You got tricked by a fake ghost!" Xander shot back, and Andrew's face crumpled.

"I – I didn't know," he blubbered.

"Well, I'd say the whole _murder_ part of it should have been a sign that something wasn't Kosher," Xander said harshly.

Spike began pacing again, more agitatedly than before, this time furiously smoking a cigarette.

Buffy turned away from him, putting a hand to her forehead and rubbing it. "So we finally know what it is we're fighting – except, not really. We have a name. We know a few of its tricks. But not much more…" She pulled her phone out. "I'll try Giles again, and we'll hit the books".

"Not that you don't have enough to worry about," Andrew put in, "but, what happened to – to – to Jonathon?" He looked down. "He wasn't there anymore".

"That reminds me," Buffy said. "When I was done with the shoveling, I ran into Principal Wood. With a shovel. Headed for the seal".

"Well that's suspicious," Tara said.

"That's what I'm thinking. And – I'm guessing he took care of Jonathon. Maybe. But… _Damn_. We should research him more too, find out if he's involved – and we still don't know what those vamp things were".

Spike passed into her line of sight again, and the reminder of what he'd done made her stomach heave. Made her wonder if he'd _enjoyed_ it. She tried to push away his confession and focus on the rest. The effort left her clutching at her hair, pulling it with a moan of frustration.

"Don't get overwhelmed. I'm on the research," Willow told her hastily. "We're all here. Just – we'll take it one step at a time".

* * *

When the meeting adjourned with little more progress to show for their efforts, Spike fell into step beside Buffy on the way home. "Pet?" he asked tentatively. "Are we okay?" She had barely paid him any attention since he'd arrived at the shop hours earlier.

Buffy offered him a tired grimace. "Yes. I'm just… you know me. Pile on the bad news and I shut down".

"Oh," he said, not convinced. "And about what I told you earlier…"

"Murdering an innocent man?" she said shortly. No, she definitely wasn't okay with him. "Do you really think it was the only way?"

"Worked, didn't it?" he asked, half sullen, half contrite.

She looked up at him, and he couldn't hide from her, couldn't turn away from the disappointment he saw in her green eyes. "So that makes it okay then?"

"Believe me when I tell you, whatever disgust you're feeling for me right now, it's nothing compared to how I feel 'bout myself". He managed to look away. "We were in a tight spot, and I had to make the call. I'm sorry I made the wrong one".

She blew out a pained breath. "Tell me something. Two things. Do you think we could have saved his life, and do you think there was any other choice?"

Spike was silent for a long time. He knew what he wanted to answer. He wanted to scream that the bloke was a goner no matter how you looked at it, and of course there was no other bloody choice. Except he couldn't say it. That bleeding conscience he'd acquired wouldn't let him say the words, no matter how desperately he wanted to believe them. There was always another way, wasn't there? If you were clever enough? His shoulders tightened as the weight of what he'd done pressed down on him. "I guess we'll never know," was all he managed.

They were silent the rest of the way home and the entire time they prepared for bed, Buffy's face etched with a maelstrom of emotions. Spike hesitated to join her in the bedroom (_you'd invite me back in your bed, knowing this?_) but she held the sheets up and waited until he tentatively slid in beside her.

She seemed to deflate once his body nestled next to hers, her loss of anger leaving her nothing but exhausted. He waited for her to speak, and when she didn't, he said, "Guess having a soul means I can't suss out the shades of gray on my own after all".

All she said was, "Why?"

He knew she meant _why did you kill that man_? "'Cause… more n' more were coming. It was either – let him die while we fought them, or a put a stop to it all. If he had to die, at least it could mean something," he explained miserably.

"Okay. I get that. But… here's the thing. If he was a good man, he probably would have made that choice voluntarily. Except we don't know if he would have. We took his choice away from him, and even if it saved more lives in the long run, that's…"

"Cold. Callous. Inhuman". His face twisted in agony. "Evil".

Reaching for him then, she said quietly, "No. Not evil. I love you, Spike. And I believe in you. You made a hard choice, and I can respect that it wasn't something you decided lightly. You didn't try to hide it from me even though I never would have known the truth otherwise, and I know you didn't do it for selfish or evil reasons".

She pulled him closer, and Spike had the feeling she was using her body to shield him from her own words. "I just – you _know_ I would have chosen different. I would have fought a hundred of those things first… and… and almost certainly died in the process while the rest climbed out to slaughter the whole town," she admitted. "So… maybe it was the right call".

At any other time he would have been touched to witness the effort she was making at seeing things his way. Spike was too mired in guilt to do more than acknowledge her words at the moment. "Doesn't make me feel any better about it," he countered miserably.

"No, I suppose it wouldn't. But sometimes our only options are bad and worse. And if this is the First we're truly facing… I have a feeling bad and worse is going to be our lives from here on out". She rolled so she could cover his body with hers. "But at least," she said between the kisses she pressed all over his face, "we'll be living them together".

He joined her then, kissing her back, tears of regret and relief streaming down his face, losing himself to the solace of her love.

* * *

Buffy slammed the book shut with a frustrated grunt, drawing looks from the assembled gang. "We're getting nowhere! No information whatsoever. And the locator spell was an incredibly bad idea".

Willow nodded fervently, still shaken from her earlier ordeal. "Didn't like the being possessed by pure evil," she agreed.

Buffy put a hand on her shoulder in commiseration. "And – where the hell is Giles? Or the Council? How come I can't even get a hold of those stuffy old jerks?" she demanded.

Andrew raised a tentative hand. "Is that the Council of Watchers you're referring to?"

"You," she threatened him with the stake she'd picked up, "are still a prisoner here. So keep quiet unless you have something useful to say".

Anya stalked over to the table. "Your loud and angry manner is scaring the customers away," she hissed. "Please go home and take it out on your husband instead".

Buffy blushed as ideas of how she could take her frustrations out on Spike occurred to her. But he was asleep after a late job last night, and she wanted him well rested for later. It was their anniversary, and he intended to wine and dine her in an appropriate fashion. "Forget about our troubles for the night, yeah, pet?" he'd said. "Instead let's celebrate our year together. This little slice of heaven I never thought I'd have".

How could she turn _that_ down?

Unfortunately, it was also far too early to patrol, and the fact that it was Sunday meant no self-defense club either. "You feel like having a go in the puffy suit, Xander?"

He raised his brows at her. "I'm still recovering from my last round".

"That was a year ago!" she protested.

"My point exactly! Make prisoner-boy do it".

Looking him over, Buffy said, "Sure, why not. We need to get some use out of him".

* * *

"You look absolutely ravishing, kitten," Spike told her as he guided her to the door of their apartment, his hand on the small of her back. His voice lowered hungrily, and as his hand slid downward he rumbled silkily into her ear, "In point of fact, perhaps we should skip straight to the ravishing…"

Despite the catch in her breath, Buffy said firmly, "No way. I spent hours getting ready, and you're going to show me off like you promised. We never do this, you know".

Cocking his head, Spike asked curiously, "Do you want to? Because all you have to do is say the word, luv. I'd be happy to take you out on the town every night if you wanted".

She stopped him by the door to place a chaste kiss on his lips. "No. I love the way we spend our nights. It's because we don't ever do this that it's special".

"All I want is to make you happy, Buffy. If memory serves, I recall making a vow to that effect. One year ago today. And then two more before that".

She leaned into his hard chest, the cool black silk of his shirt rippling beneath her cheek. There was the briefest moment where she remembered his confession of murder, and then she mentally slammed the door on it. She'd accepted his choice as the lesser of two evils and forgiven him. He wasn't evil, and he wasn't a killer. Not anymore. He'd simply tried to do what was best, the same as any other human trying to muddle their way through life.

So she held him tightly and said, "And you do. I never knew I could be this happy".

His arms stole around her as his head dropped to rest on her golden one, and they stayed like for several minutes, swaying minutely to the rhythm of Buffy's heartbeat. "Reservations…" he said at last into her hair. She stayed in his arms a moment longer, then pulled away.

"Tonight is just about you and me," he reminded her. "No worrying about anything else, pet, especially not…" He trailed off as he opened the front door.

"Giles," Buffy finished under her breath.


	62. Chapter 62

**Author's Notes: **Joss owns all.

* * *

"Giles!" Buffy repeated more forcefully. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for a week!" she exclaimed, moving forward for a hug. At that moment, the girls she hadn't noticed behind him stepped forward, cutting her off.

"This is the Slayer?" the one that appeared the oldest said, unimpressed. "Huh".

"Sorry to barge in," Giles smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid we have a slight apocalypse".

"And there's the word we were avoiding for the night," Spike groused. "What's with the high school brigade?"

"Do you remember your dreams?" Giles asked Buffy. "The ones of girls dying? Potential Slayers. They're being hunted down, systematically eliminated. These girls are some of the few left".

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Buffy asked.

"Perhaps later, in a few hours," Spike added in a frustrated voice. "Reservations," he reminded her pointedly.

She looked helplessly from one face to the next. "Is – can the explanations wait a little longer?" she pleaded. "Kinda an important night for us".

When Giles hesitated, Spike pulled him aside. "How often does she get to be just a girl, Ripper? She gives up so bloody much to be the sodding Chosen one, don't make her give this up too. Let her have her night. Especially since we both know that what's coming is bad with a capital B-A-D". They each turned to face Buffy, who was listening to the newcomers introduce themselves. "She's not likely to have this chance again. Not for who knows how long".

Giles' face softened. "Of course. I'll settle the potentials into the guest room". Spike stepped away, but the other man called him back. "Congratulations, William. On your anniversary".

"Ta, Rupert," Spike smiled boyishly. "Make yourself at home. I'm sure you can find the tea".

* * *

Dancing with her later, knowing that every man there was envious of him, Spike had a revelation. Another thing he'd learned since acquiring the soul. Before, seeing the way their eyes roamed over his wife, he would have gotten growly and possessive. Staked his claim with a guttural 'mine' and a snarl. Maybe even a fist or two.

Now he realized that loving Buffy didn't make her his. Didn't give him leave to claim her. Loving her meant humbly offering himself up to her instead, for as long as she would accept him, and even if she didn't.

It was a strange concept for a vampire, to think of love meaning that he was hers, rather than that she was his.

It didn't mean that he wasn't chuffed to bits when she pulled him closer and marked the tender skin of his neck with her own whispered, "Mine".

He didn't mind her possessiveness at all.

* * *

"Okay, call me summation-man, because I am reeling from all the information you bring to our previously information-lacking table," Xander began. "One, we really are facing the _First_ Evil, the source of all evil, and it is trying to completely eliminate the Slayer line. Two, it has destroyed the Council of Watchers, including all their handy-dandy musty old books, except for the few you stole. Three, most of the Potentials have been offed, but the ones that are still kicking are working their way here to be under Buffy's protection. And last, but oh-so not least, the Turok Han are Uber-ancient, Uber-evil, Uber-indestructible Uber-vamps that make Spike look like a fluffy little declawed kitten. One of which is still loose about town".

"Spike's a vampire?" came the surprised cry from one of the girls.

He vamped and grinned toothily at them. "Pleased to meet you, ladies. What?" he grumbled at Buffy's sharp slap to the back of his head. "Not like the vast quantities of blood I nick from our icebox wasn't going to give it away sooner or later".

"Wow. Can we say 'sleeping with the enemy'?" Kennedy uttered scornfully. "I think I missed that part of Slayer training".

"Honey, you missed _all _of Slayer training," Buffy replied saccharinely.

"He _is_ hot," Molly murmured to Annabelle. Spike caught her declaration and winked appreciatively at her.

"Spike is not like other vampires," Buffy said sternly. "He's good. A hero," she proclaimed, smiling softly at him, then turned severe again. "But any other vampire out there, you stake first, ask questions later, got it?"

"Except for Angel," Willow reminded her.

"Okay. Except for Angel. But he doesn't live here, so don't worry about it".

"Oh no, go ahead and stake him," Spike snarked.

"How do you know?" Kennedy demanded harshly. "How do you know Spike's good?"

He turned his demonic amber eyes on her. "You're not dead, are you?" he inquired coldly, and she flinched.

"Is that why you can walk in the sun?" Annabelle asked nervously. "Because you're not evil?"

"That, pet, is a whole different story. But not one that I share with others," he said with a smile, so she understood she was not being reproved for asking. The ones in the know all jealously guarded the secret of Spike's invulnerability. The fewer people that knew about the Gem of Amarra, the less chance of other vamps coming looking for it.

"Indeed. And if we can go back to the matter at hand, yes Xander, you are remarkably accurate in your summation as well as to the point. As always," Giles smiled tightly.

"One of these days I will teach you how to say things with far fewer and smaller words," Xander grinned.

"After seven years, I suspect I am a lost cause," the older man retorted dryly.

"Back to the First," Buffy said, "These 'ghosts' of Spike and Andrew's – that was it, right?"

"Yes. It can change form, but only in the guise of people who have passed away".

Spike said grimly, "Buffy's right here in front of me".

"Yes, but she has died," Giles replied.

"Twice in fact," Buffy reminded them.

"Indeed. Therefore, the First could very well mimic her. In addition, it is not corporeal. It can't touch or fight on its own. It works through the people it manipulates, and its followers, the Bringers".

"But why now?" Buffy interrupted. "I mean, it's been around since, well, before everything else. Gajillions of years. Why is it jonesing for so much action _now_?"

"I'm afraid that is still a mystery," Giles replied. "While we research that, in the meantime we need to see to the safety of the Potentials that will be arriving".

"And where do you expect us to be putting them all, Watcher?" Spike demanded. "The flat's full to bursting as it is".

"I was hoping I could convince you to take up residence in a house," Giles said. "A much larger house, with room for the arrivals we hope to be having".

"I can't afford that!" Buffy panicked. "No way!"

"I shall assist you, of course," Giles said. "Without Quentin Travers… well, at least the Council's purse strings are far looser now".

"I bet you could get a good deal on a house too," Anya piped up. "It's not just the demons that are feeling the coming change. The normally clueless townspeople seem to be catching on too. I've seen a _lot_ of for rent and for sale signs going up lately".

"Okay, so put _them_ up in a house," Buffy argued. "Why do Spike and I need to move in too? You can be the responsible parent".

"I can't force you to make that choice," Giles said quietly. "I understand what I am asking you to give up. But the fact remains, Buffy, that you – and Spike – are the only ones who can protect these girls. Actually," he turned to look each of the Scoobies in the eye, "I believe it would be for the best if we all stuck together from here on out. The First… it is pure evil. I… At this point we know so little, other than it has been working on many fronts…" he trailed off with a glance at the Potentials, obviously not wanting to admit how dire the situation was in front of them. "However, one thing I am certain of – the First will use whatever means necessary to weaken Buffy, which suggests we are all vulnerable. By remaining together…"

Xander stood up. "Who's up for a slumber party? I'll bring the movies".

Buffy looked at Spike, who gave her a tight smile and nodded his support. "And I guess we're going house-hunting then. Any requests?"

"Bathrooms," Tara said quietly. "With this many girls coming – lots of bathrooms".

* * *

"I'm sorry," Buffy said softly as she and Spike packed side-by-side.

"For what, luv?"

"This. Having to move. Give up our home, our life".

He bumped her shoulder with his. "Had to change. Sooner or later. We knew it already. 'Sides, isn't there a saying about home and heart, or some such rot?"

"I think it's 'home is wherever Spike is'…" She sighed and sat on the bed. "Still. I was really looking forward to our first Christmas here, in our own place. Just the two of us waking up Christmas morning. Our own Christmas tree with our first ornaments…"

Spike had been about to say something facetious to the effect of '_Did you forget that I'm a vampire, luv? Not so keen on Christmas_', but her wistful tone of voice stayed him. And he would have been lying anyhow. He might have the physiology of a vampire, but in his heart, he considered himself a man once more. Buffy's man. And if Buffy loved Christmas, then so did he. Truth be told, he'd loved it when he'd been human too, though times and traditions had changed dramatically. He'd even been looking forward to sharing some of the traditions of his youth with her.

He lay back on the bed, pulling her with him. "Think of it this way, sweetheart. Bigger house means bigger tree, which means more room underneath for presents from St. Nick for his favorite girl".

Rolling so she was more tightly pressed to his side, she said, "Maybe we shouldn't be worrying about Christmas. Seems kind of frivolous, doesn't it?"

"Or," he countered, "maybe it's exactly what we should be worrying about. Why do you fight evil, Buffy? To preserve the good things in life. And Christmas with my wife is definitely tops on that list. Don't let the evil bastard take that away from us, because then it wins".

She traced the sharp planes of his face with a delicate fingertip. "You keep me strong, Spike. You know that, right?"

Spike thought of how she'd forgiven him his choice to end an innocent man's life in the face of something worse, and then supported him as he tried to deal with the resultant remorse. Of how she'd comforted him when the First haunted him with the dead man's face.

He said in response, "We keep each other strong. S'the way it should be".

* * *

"Welcome to the War Room," Andrew said, displaying the large dry erase board he'd mounted on the wall. He was certainly the most amenable prisoner Spike had ever had. Not that he was really a prisoner anymore. But it wouldn't do to let the boy in on it, or else he might begin to think he was actually part of the team.

The one good thing about having so many houseguests was that once the new place had finally been chosen, all the packing, moving and unpacking had been completed in a day, with Andrew being one of the most enthusiastic helpers. The rooms had been divvied up, and while there wasn't a whole lot of privacy for anyone, it was considerably more roomy than it had been at the flat.

Spike had insisted that he and Buffy have the master bedroom to themselves and nobody had been inclined to argue with him. The Harrises and the lover-Wiccas each had rooms to themselves as well, leaving Andrew and Giles to share a room as the only two other men and the Potentials to squabble over the rest of the house. While they didn't get their own bedrooms, the previous owners had finished the large basement as a rec room complete with a pair of powder rooms and a kitchenette, and it served the handful of them that had arrived so far well enough.

The only downside was that the house was a fair bit farther away from downtown than they were used to. Well, that, and it was on Crawford Street. Spike would have to pass "the mansion" every time he headed out, and yes, he did think of it in quotes, but he refrained from complaining, knowing it held memories just as bad for Buffy and the Watcher.

Buffy left Andrew to his pretensions of usefulness and wandered into the oversized gleaming kitchen, Spike trailing behind her. "I don't like this kitchen," she pouted. It makes me feel inadequate". She surveyed the expensive appliances. "This is _not_ a stove one prepares canned soup and Bisquick pancakes on," she affected a snooty air. "_This _is a stove to prepare crème Brule and chicken cordon bleu. If I knew what those were," she said sadly.

"You get the Slayer-cadets settled in to their beds, luv, and I'll prepare you a meal worthy of this kitchen, how 'bout. Sound good?"

"Just for the two of us? You think we'll be so lucky?"

"Could make a dinner party of it. Adults only like".

"To celebrate us all living together in peace and harmony?" she giggled.

"Surprised you lot haven't moved in together before now honestly," he teased, pleased to see the careworn look she sported so often falling away.

"Hmm. I do like that idea. But only if we don't invite Andrew. I think Giles would far rather be the odd man out than have our resident nerd round out the table". She thought a moment longer. "Better get Tara to help you. Willow says she's the chef of their house. And keep Giles away from the vegetables!" she added. "I like my vegetables identifiable, not mushy grey sludge".

"As you wish, my lady," he bowed.

"I hate it when you do that, you know".

"Not my fault you're such a bossy little chit".

"I'll show you bossy," she threatened, stalking towards him and backing him against the counter.

"Not that I don't like it when you go all dominatrix on me kitten, but maybe we could move this upstairs. Away from the PG crowd," he smirked, giving her his sexiest look, and was immediately rewarded with the response he'd been looking for. "We don't quite have the run of the house we're used to," he reminded her huskily, trailing his fingers over her in ways guaranteed to make her gasp.

She glanced towards the 'war room', responsibility battling with desire on her face. "We do need to make sure the bed frame got put together properly," she mused, her body melting into his, giving into the pull of his touch.

It was all the encouragement Spike needed. He scooped her up and bounded to the stairs, leaving the other members of their household staring in their wake.

"I wouldn't go upstairs for a _long_ time," Anya's warning to the Potentials trailed up the stairs after them.

* * *

Giles surveyed the abandoned patch of dirt where Buffy insisted she had found the Bringers performing a ritual four years ago, in a cavern underneath a Christmas tree lot. "You're certain there was an entrance to the cave above ground here?"

"I swear it was here somewhere, Giles".

"So we'll just keep -". He gaped as Buffy suddenly disappeared from view.

"Found it!" she called out from below. "Don't worry, I'm fine. Great even, what with how my knees bend backwards now". She peered down the dark tunnel that led away from the cave and pulled a small flashlight from her pocket. "You stay up there, I'll check it out".

As Buffy crept down the tunnel, she listened intently, all her senses on high alert. Eventually she reached a much larger cavern. One that had possibly been occupied at some point, but was currently empty. With a last glance around, she sped back to where she'd left Giles.

"Nada. Everyone's moved out. Or at the very least went on vacation".

Giles scowled in dismay. "Well, it was worth a shot".

* * *

Buffy looked over her growing group of wards. Rona, the latest, was being ushered into the kitchen.

"Any news on that missing Neanderthal vamp?" she asked Giles quietly.

"Nothing yet," he returned just as quietly.

Despite their prudence, one of the Potentials heard and queried, "We've been wondering. Is there a plan of any kind? Because it seems like y'all are doing a whole lot of looking for this First thing and that vamp creature, but no finding and killing them. Meanwhile we're all just waiting… for a plan. Any kind of a plan. To keep us from dying".

"We're working on it, Chloe," Buffy answered tersely.

"I'm Eve. That's Chloe," she drawled, pointing to a different Potential.

"Sorry," Buffy muttered as Giles pulled her away.

"There is one avenue we haven't explored yet," he told the Slayer. "Belijoxa's Eye".

"Huh?" she said.

* * *

"Get away from them!" Buffy's harsh words rang out through the basement, startling the few girls who were still asleep into waking.

They were confused, though Eve – not Eve, but the First – immediately understood the words were directed at her. She smirked malevolently from her bedroll on the floor

"What did Eve do?" Kennedy asked in bewilderment.

"That's not Eve," Xander informed the others.

"Eve is dead," Buffy added, her eyes never leaving the apparition posing as the deceased Potential.

"Oops. Another one down. Oh well. Can't save them all, can ya, Buffy?" The First continued on, taunting Buffy, terrifying the girls. Then she said, "I'm sending some guests over to visit y'all tonight. After the sun goes down, 'course. Try to make them feel welcome. Before they rip y'all to pieces".

With that, she disappeared.

Buffy's mouth grew thin as she surveyed the whimpering young women spread throughout their 'bedroom'. She looked behind her, to where Xander, Willow, and Tara stood shoulder to shoulder, backing her up, waiting for her lead, then turned to face the terrified Potentials.

"Listen to me. The Turok Han are hard to kill. But not impossible. You have me. You have Spike. You have Willow and Tara and Xander, Anya and Giles. Whatever the First sends after you, we _will_ protect you. In the meantime, you need to quit being scared".

She stood taller, willing them to hear her. "I heard Eve filling your head with lies. She says I can't protect you. She says the First will win because we're not ready for it. Well let me tell you something.

"Maybe we don't know how to fight the First. _Yet_. Maybe we don't know all the different ways it's gonna come at us. And we can't run, can't hide. Can't pretend this is not the end, 'cause it is. Something has always been there to try and destroy the world. We've beaten them back, but we're not dealing with them anymore. We're dealing with the reason they exist. Evil. The strongest. The First. We're standing on the mouth of Hell and it's going to swallow us whole". She looked each and every one of them in the eye. "And it'll choke on us.

"We're not ready? _They're _not ready. They think we're gonna wait like we always do, for the end to come, but I'm done waiting. They want an apocalypse? We'll give 'em one. Anyone who wants to run, do it now, because we just became an army. We just declared war.

"From now on we won't just face our worst fears, we will seek them out. We will find them and cut out their hearts, one by one, until The First shows itself for what it is. And I will kill it myself. There's only one thing on this earth more powerful than evil". She waited a beat, then finished. "And that's us". Buffy surveyed the room, watching hope battle with despair in their faces.

Xander stepped forward. "You heard her. Are we going to just sit here, waiting to be picked off one by one, or are we going to get our weapons and fight?"

Kennedy stood, walking to Buffy's side and turning to face the others. "Most of us have been training for years. Maybe we don't have the strength Buffy has, but we have the moves. We are _not_ scared little girls who can't defend themselves". She threw her head back and placed her hands on her hips. "We're warriors".

Xander clapped as the others stood too. "That's the spirit, ladies. Upstairs, time to select your favorite instrument of death".

Buffy was left with Willow in the basement. "You know you're our first line of defense, right? I have a feeling the vamps that time forgot aren't going to be needing an invitation to bust on in". Heaving a sigh, she continued while mounting the stairs, "And we just got the Christmas decorations up. I _so_ do not want them to get ruined before Christmas even gets here".

"You know, I think I'm just going to pack Grandma Ellie's menorah away for now," Willow muttered. "Just, you know, in case. Maybe you should think about taking the ornaments you really like off the tree too".

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "No way. Spike said not to let the First ruin our Christmas, and he's right. I'm drawing my line in the sand. Outside. On the lawn. Far away from my damn decorations".


	63. Chapter 63

**Author's Notes: **Thank you everybody for your comments and thank you all for being such wonderful readers and reviewers!

* * *

It was late afternoon when Buffy reviewed the plan of attack with the Scooby gang.

"Tara, Willow, how are we doing on protection spells?"

"They're… coming," Willow hesitated. "I just… before, with the magicks, and that locator spell on the First. Everything got all 'rrrr' and…" Tara took her hand, encouraging her to continue. "I've been feeling off ever since. When the First took me over… it was Dark Side, Buffy. You – when you were gone, I was getting heavily into the black magic, especially with the resurrection spell. When I draw on that kind of power, it literally turns me dark – black hair, black eyes… it's what I've been working so hard with the coven to steer clear of. They tell me it's very addictive, and they're right – it takes a lot of my willpower to avoid going… there".

"So you're saying…" Buffy prompted, confused.

"When the First possessed me, it brought out the… hunger… for that kind of power. I've been afraid to use magic since then". Tara murmured something in the redhead's ear. "Tara knows how to keep me grounded, though. So I'll be okay casting these spells". After a beat she added, "I think".

Buffy squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Just do your best Will. If it's too much, we'll find another way. Between Spike and I, we should be able to hold back whatever the First sends at us".

Xander looked at the clock. "I wonder when Anya and Giles are going to be done with that Eye thingamabobby. I can't decide if I want them to hurry home or stay where they are. Away from the Turok Han". Standing up, he said, "Any which way, I know my part in this. I'm going to go start measuring the windows so I can get glass ordered.

Buffy shook her head. "_No_! We are not replacing any windows. Or doors. Or Christmas decorations or menorahs".

Snorting, Xander replied, "Well, it's good to be optimistic".

* * *

Spike was tangled in the covers, one arm thrown over his eyes against the slanting afternoon sun. Buffy shut the bedroom door behind her and locked it. If she was going to be putting herself and her husband in mortal danger in only a few hours, then here was her incentive. Spending those remaining hours with said husband.

She stripped quickly and sat on the edge of the bed. Before she could decide how to wake him, one arm shot out and yanked her close, holding her to him with tightly corded muscles. Buffy laughed, then tossed his blankets aside, exposing his hard, pale torso and bobbing, tumescent length.

"We home alone?" he asked hopefully, his eyes still covered by one arm.

"Not at all". Wriggling loose from his grip, she added, "But we've got a little time to ourselves right now. Until we have to save the world". She straddled his hips then guided him inside, already wet and ready.

Spike grunted, rising to meet her as she began to move. "Is that tonight then, the world save-age?"

"Yuh-huh". It was Buffy's turn to hiss as Spike decided to wake fully, flipping them over and taking control. "That Eve girl? We found her, long dead. The First has been wearing her face and listening in on our plans". She had to pause when Spike adjusted his position, fingers digging into his arms as she groaned her approval. "Wh-when we found her out, she told us she was sending 'visitors' tonight. I'm presuming it's not going to be pretty".

"Good thing you got me, then".

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a heated kiss. "So very good".

* * *

Around the back of the house, Buffy found Spike hewing the head from the last of the Ubervamps. "That's it?" she demanded. "A handful of Turok Han and a small army of Bringers?" She shook her head in disgust. "And we only lost one window to the battle. I'm thinking the First isn't nearly as tough as it pretends to be".

"Maybe it was just testing us".

"Pfft," she scoffed. "No match for the pair of us," she tossed her hair back and threw out one hip, fist poised confidently upon it. Spike drove his sword into the ground then swaggered over to her, catching and spinning her around as she leapt into his embrace for a victory smooch.

"What say we go celebrate? Bit o' rough and tumble after our rough an' tumble?"

Sliding down his body, she slapped his shoulder lightly. "You're probably right, that was only a minor sortie. A warning shot across our bow. We shouldn't get too confident. I doubt we're even close to winning this war". Buffy tugged his sword from the flowerbed he'd driven it into and clasped his hand, heading for the back door. "Let's go watch Xander grumble about replacing the picture window".

Xander, however, wasn't worried about household repairs. Kneeling in shattered glass, he was frantically shaking an unconscious Tara while Andrew and the Potentials looked on, weapons hanging limply in their hands.

Buffy rushed to his side. "What happened?"

"I – I don't know," he said grimly. "I just found her like this".

Kennedy spoke up. "We were out front – stacking bodies after you went around back to help Spike. I heard screaming. By the time I got inside, Tara was already out". She pointed to the broken window. "I can't be certain, but… I think we must have missed some Bringers – one leapt out the window just as I arrived. And… there might have been more, because nobody can find Willow".

Buffy turned to Spike, who nodded grimly. "Right. I'll track her, you stay here and make sure we got the rest of the blighters". He patted his pockets then pulled out his cell. "I'll call you when I catch up, let you know if I need backup".

"The cavern," Buffy called to him as he strode away. "The one I found with Giles. I bet that's where they're headed". He waved in acknowledgement.

Tara came to then. "Willow…" she groaned. "They've got…"

Buffy shushed her. "It's okay, we're on it. We'll have her back in no time". Xander reached in with an icepack one of the girls had made, and Buffy made room for him to place it on the knot forming on the blonde witch's forehead. Hurrying outside, she swept the perimeter, but there were no more threats to be found.

Returning to the living room to find Tara sitting up, Buffy grunted, "I knew it was too easy. I bet they were after Willow all along".

"B-but why?" Tara wondered, tears swimming in her large eyes.

The Slayer flipped open her cell as it began to ring. "We'll find out soon enough". She listened for a moment then said, "They didn't? You sure? Yeah… Got it. Be there soon".

The room was silent, everyone holding their breath to hear the news. "Xander. Grab some weapons and your car keys. Hellmouth, only Bringers present. The First must have used up its supply of vamps". Buffy turned to Tara. "You okay to firm up the wards? I don't think they'll be back, but…"

"I want to come with you".

Buffy paused, considered, then shook her head. "I need somebody here with these guys. If you leave…" The rest of the sentence remained unspoken, but Tara understood. There wouldn't be anybody to guard the Potentials.

"You're in charge of defense," Buffy told Kennedy briskly. The oldest of the Slayers-in-training was her least favorite, but she couldn't deny that the irritating young woman was also the best prepared. "Saddle up". This last was said to Xander and they hurried away, not wanting to waste another moment in rescuing their friend.

* * *

Spike was waiting for them at the top of the stairs to the basement. "How many?" Buffy whispered.

"Twenty or so," he responded. "Have Harris stay back, watch for surprises from behind," he ordered as they descended into the bowels of the school.

"I am getting really sick of this seal of goat-headed badness," Buffy grumbled. "They better not be using Willow to open it again".

Spike shook his head. "Doesn't look like it, otherwise I would have gone in already. As it was, figured I could wait for you. Too many to take on and try to keep Red in one piece at the same time".

Squeezing his hand, Buffy said, "Good call," and Spike grinned. For several weeks now, ever since their first go-around with the seal, she'd made an effort to seek – and follow – his advice, as well as acknowledge his contributions to their partnership. After the terrible decision Spike had been forced to make in order to close the seal, she'd come to realize just how much it had upset him when she'd discounted his worth in the past. Her approval of that choice, despite it being different than the one she would have made, had done a lot for their relationship. And for him. He was far more confident now, but it was a habit she continued, not seeing any reason to stop.

Especially when it earned her his brilliant smile.

Buffy peeked around the corner into the cavern, sword raised to do some damage, and was startled to see Willow sitting cross-legged on the seal, alone. And unbound. She turned to Spike in perplexity, then waved Xander forward to join them. "What do you think?" she whispered. "Trap of some kind?" Her skin buzzed with the force of the mystical energy in the room.

Closing his eyes, Spike inhaled deeply. "She's alone. Can't tell what the deal is. I'll go in first," he offered. He approached Willow cautiously, but she remained staring straight ahead, her head slightly tilted as if she were focusing on something unseen in her line of vision.

Which – considering how the First could appear to some and not others – was a distinct possibility.

Spike reached out and touched Willow's shoulder carefully, unsure if she was corporeal or a trick of the First. His hand connected with her, but she remained fixed on the invisible sight in front of her.

Turning to face the others, he shrugged and beckoned them forward. "What gives?" Xander asked as they stood in a semi-circle in front of a still stationary Willow.

"Looks like she's listening to someone," Spike answered.

Xander knelt down, blocking her view. "Willow!" he said sharply. "Hello! Anyone in there?"

The witch seemed to come to awareness then, and under their startled gazes she rose up fluidly, her feet hovering above the seal, hair and eyes darkening to pure black, sparks flying from her fingertips.

"Willow's not home," she intoned coldly.

"This can't be good," Buffy muttered.

Spike stepped in front of her. "Like to get Red back now," he told the witch. In response, she raised her hands and blasted him with energy. Spike fell to the ground writhing in agony. "Hurts!" he gasped. "What the bloody hell?"

"Magic," Buffy murmured to herself in realization. "He's vulnerable to magic". The Gem of Amarra didn't protect him from mystical assaults.

Rushing to his side, Buffy was unsure of what to do until Willow's earlier words came to her. _Tara knows how to keep me grounded_.

Call Tara.

She backed away and hurried into the corridor, hoping Willow would ignore Spike for a moment.

Tara answered on the first ring. "What do you do to keep Willow grounded? To get her off the juice?" Buffy could hear the startled blush right through the phone. "Um, Tara, any chance you could get to the Hellmouth? Stat? When Willow mentioned going Dark Side earlier, she wasn't kidding".

"M-Mr. Giles and Anya just returned. I'll take his car," Tara stuttered anxiously, then hung up. Buffy hurried back to the chamber just in time to see Xander step in front of Spike, defending him from another jolt of electricity.

"Hey black-eyed girl. Whatcha doing?"

"Get out of here," Willow barked, skirting around him, but Xander stepped in front of her again.

He kept his tone conversational. "You're not the only one with powers, you know. You may be a hopped up Uber-witch, but this carpenter can drywall you into next century".

Willow curled her lip and blasted him backwards, then turned to Spike once more. Buffy rushed forward as his slack body levitated upwards, stopping just to the side as the vampire dropped back to the earth with a thump. Xander had pulled himself upright and was distracting the witch once more.

"You can't stop me, Xander Harris".

"From hurting Spike? Fair enough. But – why? You have all this power and all you want to do is roast a vampire's pasty ass?"

His diversion had Willow – was it Willow? – talking instead of frying. "He just really pisses me off," she said. "Him _and_ the Slayer bitch". Buffy held her breath in anticipation of pain, but Willow didn't even seem to notice she was there. "And you're starting to as well. Don't think I won't hurt you too, Xander".

"Well, that's okay with me. You know I always go along with whatever you say. Remember in third grade, Willow, when you thought we should -".

She cut him off with a downward swipe of her arm. "Don't call me that".

"What, Willow?" Xander furled his brow in mock confusion. "But that's who you are. I can't say I'm digging the new look, but you're still my Willow. Still love you".

The witch faltered, her feet sinking and touching the seal once more, then she narrowed her eyes. "I have – power. Such power, you couldn't even comprehend it. More power than him". Spike's body jolted. "Or her". The pain came this time. Buffy gritted her teeth and bore it, unwilling to hurt Willow – or at the least, her body. "You always think you know so much, don't you _Buffy_," she spat. "Think you're so right, just because you're strong and fast. Not that bright, though, are you? Well I say, it's time for some changes around here. Time for a new leader".

Another bolt of energy coursed through her. "If – if that's what you think is best," Buffy gasped placatingly. "Wh – what do you suggest?" Anything to keep Willow here until Tara arrived.

She took that thought back mere moments later as the seal beneath Willow's feet hummed and glowed. Buffy turned to run, hoping the witch would give chase – and move away from the blasted seal – but her hopes were dashed as Willow chuckled evilly.

"What do I suggest? I suggest we play a little game. And for this game, we're going to need… some friends". The seal glowed brighter and Buffy knew what was coming next. More hideous vamps.

Xander seemed to realize it too. He got in Willow's face. "Willow. I love you".

"Shut up," she snapped, sending him flying with a flick of her hand.

He climbed painfully to his feet and stood before her once more. "Willow. I love you".

This time there was a moment's hesitation before she repeated her actions. Xander rose more slowly, and while Willow's eyes were fixed on him, Buffy inched to where her sword lay forgotten on the ground. The first section of the seal snapped into place.

Just as Xander reached Willow, a new voice rang out. "Willow". Tara had arrived.

The dark witch paused and turned to face Tara, the uncertainty obvious in her posture. "I love you, Willow," the blonde said calmly as she moved forward, reaching out to stroke her hair and arms soothingly. Willow began to tremble.

"I love you," Xander echoed. Willow deflated slightly

Sensing the re-emergence of her friend, Buffy added her own voice to the mix. "I love you, Willow". The witch's eyes snapped toward her in confusion, then slid back to Tara, who was now caressing her lover… ahem. In a very private fashion. Buffy turned away, noting with a trace of a smirk that Xander didn't, his eyes bulging comically .

"Baby?" Willow asked tentatively, and the seal beneath her snapped shut.

Buffy sagged in relief as the black drained out of Willow's hair, her vibrant red color reasserting itself. Dropping to Spike's side, she ascertained he was still unconscious, but alive. Or, undead. Undusted, at least, if a little worse for the wear.

Tara had a hold of the now-shaking Willow and was leading her away, talking quietly to her while petting her without halt.

* * *

"What happened?" Buffy asked Willow when they were safely ensconced at home, mugs of steaming tea in front of each member of the gang.

Spike had a different question. "Who was it?"

The Slayer frowned in confusion, but the question pierced the wall Willow had retreated behind.

Raising her eyes to Spike, she answered unsteadily, "Miss Calendar". Giles paled as the others started, but Spike kept his eyes trained on the witch. _The First_, Buffy thought to herself. _It came to her as Jenny Calendar_.

"The one Angelus did for," he said seriously, and she nodded.

"She… she was the one who got me started in witchcraft. Indirectly, you know, after… But she encouraged me, really showed an interest in my talents with computers – and school. More…" She sighed painfully, eyes closed. "More than my parents. She even… even asked me to sub for her class". Willow slowly raised her eyes to his once more, and Spike kept his eyes riveted on hers, drawing her out.

Buffy realized he was the only other one, besides Andrew, who had been manipulated by the First, who understood what her friend was going through.

"Miss Calendar became my hero. In my mind, you know, these past years. My role model. Witchcraft _and_ computer science? Way cool," Willow continued on. "I – I knew it wasn't her, but…"

"But it's hard to remember that when it comes after you," Spike commiserated. "When you're faced with the ones that mattered".

"Yeah". Her eyes flicked briefly to the others but returned to Spike. "She reminded me of my talent. My power. When you guys arrived, the First possessed me, just for an instant. Just enough to fill me with such…" she shuddered in remembrance. "It felt so good…" she admitted in a whisper, mortified and apologetic.

Spike nodded in agreement, intense and grave. "It can. It does. Not worrying 'bout right or wrong. Not caring a whit for anyone but yourself. So easy, innit?"

Willow turned even paler, but she couldn't deny his words. "Jenny – the First – she kept whispering to me. To use my power, fulfill my potential. But it wasn't real power. Not that. The only potential I was living up to was the one for destruction. That's what it wanted. I could feel it, urging me on. But – you guys helped me remember. Helped me fight it".

"Real power is controlling it, not letting it control you," Tara murmured to Willow.

"That's what the coven leader, Althenea, teaches me," Willow told the others quietly, eyes downcast. "What I've been working on". She took a shuddering breath. "I'm gonna have to start all over now".

Xander clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Better that than the alternative, right?"

"I'm _so_ sorry," she cried out. "I could have – I was going to…"

"It's over Wills. Done. The First. That's what it does. But we – _you_ – defeated it," Buffy reminded her. "And it won't be able to get to you again. Right?" she asked, both offering encouragement and threatening as well. Just a little. Willow _couldn't_ let it happen again. The witch nodded hesitantly. "Good. Matter closed". She turned to Giles. "Tell us what you and Anya learned from that Belly Jocks Eye".

* * *

Examining every inch of Spike's body for injuries had long since become nothing more than excuse for Buffy to feel his flesh beneath her fingers, caress his skin and cover it with her mouth. She worked her way back up to his lips, brushing hers over his.

"Think Willow's going to be okay?"

"Was rough on the witch, I reckon. Realizing she had that in her. And then finding the reason the First is so strong is her fault too, bringing you back to the living. It's a lot on her conscience. But Glinda's got her. S'pect she's giving Red as much attention as you're doing for me, pet". Buffy blushed at the mental image.

"You were incredible, Spike. Talking her through it like that. I don't know if any of us could have reached her as well as you did. Not even Xander or Tara".

"Guess being evil has its uses after all".

"Formerly!" Buffy insisted.

"Formerly," he sighed broodily.

Buffy was silent for a moment, focused on kneading the stiffness from Spike's thighs, but then she asked sadly, "Do you think she really resents me that much? She seemed so angry with me".

"Only way to find out is to ask her, pet".

"You know me. Not so big with the talky". She caught the admonishing look he gave her. "Yeah, yeah. I hate it when you're right". Running her hands down his body one last time, she pronounced, "You're fully healed. No lasting damage".

Spike's lip crept out. "But I like being the meek patient. Don't think you've checked well enough yet. Might've missed a spot".

"Tsk. Insatiable, aren't you?" She obliged nonetheless, rolling him to his belly and letting her fingers dance up his bare back. "Still, we learned something important today. Something I wish we'd realized back when you were quasi-evil".

"Whassat?" he groaned as her thumbs pressed into the muscles of his shoulders.

"The Gem of Amarra does nothing for you when it comes to magic. You're completely vulnerable to witchcraft".


	64. Chapter 64

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you Hyacinthe for the nomination over on SunnyD! Looks like there's lots of great stories up for consideration, don't forget to check it out and vote in November. Or nominate something yourself before the end of October!

Time to remind myself that none of these guys belong to me but instead to Fox and ME and Dark Horse (even if I have started dreaming about Spuffy). Boo!

* * *

"Pass me those?" Tara called to Andrew, who handed up a string of lights. Tara affixed them to the top of the freshly repaired picture window, then climbed down the ladder and surveyed her work.

"It looks wonderful, Tara".

"Thank you Mrs. Summers. I think we're all set for Christmas tomorrow".

Willow entered, a stack of envelopes in hand. "Mail call!" she cried out, prompting the sounds of thumping feet mounting the stairs. Buffy hurried in from the kitchen, Dawn following behind, licking cookie frosting from her fingers. After passing out the handful of letters Potentials had received from their families, Willow set aside the bills. Three envelopes remained in her hands. "Our grades for this semester," she said as one went to Tara, the other to Buffy.

"I'm gonna wait until after Christmas," Buffy grimaced, setting her envelope on the coffee table. "I've declared a moratorium on bad news for the next 24 hours".

"Well, being kinda sorta Jewish, my holiday is officially over". Willow tore into her envelope enthusiastically, obviously not expecting bad news.

"You guys are so lucky," Dawn whined. "Mom won't let _me_ give up school next semester".

"We're not giving it up," Buffy corrected. "Just taking a break so we can focus our energies on that thing I'm not talking about for the next 24 hours".

"'Sides," Willow added, done comparing her and Tara's grades, "half the classes have already been cancelled for next semester. I have a feeling school won't be in session much longer at good old UC Sunnydale".

"Great. We had to move away from the town that hosts the apocalypse," Dawn grumbled. "Can we move back, Mom? Please?"

"I thought you liked your new school, sweetie".

"Oh, I like my friends. And my teachers. And even the building. I just don't like _school_".

"Well, cheer up," Buffy said. "If I don't prevent the impending apocalypse, you won't have to go to school next year either".

* * *

The buzzing of her cell phone woke Buffy with a start. "Huh?" she mumbled sleepily into the cursed object.

"Come downstairs, luv".

"Spike? Why are you calling me on my cell phone? And why aren't you in bed with me?"

"Just come downstairs. You'll see".

Buffy grumbled as she looked at the clock, but pulled on her Christmas jammies and stumbled downstairs in the pre-dawn darkness, rubbing her eyes blearily. A rustling from the living room drew her attention and she followed the sound instinctively, not yet awake, drawing closer to the soft strains of Christmas carols on the radio.

She yawned as she entered the room, then gasped, her head whipping around to make sure no one else was in sight. The merrily twinkling lights from the Christmas tree were reflecting off of one very pale, very naked body lounging on a sheepskin rug. Buffy rubbed her eyes and did a double-take. Well, not completely naked, she corrected. Brilliantly white hair was hidden by a Santa cap, while naughty bits were hidden under a cheesy oversized red bow.

She burst out giggling. "Could you get any more corny?"

Spike grinned wickedly, sliding his hand sensually down his chest and coming to rest just above the bow. "Thought you might like to open your prezzie 'fore the others woke".

Through the hand covering her mouth in surprise, Buffy squeaked, "Spike – we can't! Not here!"

"No worries, luv. Told the lover-Wiccas how you were missing out on having our very own Christmas in our very own place, and they helped a fellow out". He drew her eye to the symbols painted on the doorjambs. "For the next three hours, anyone who comes near is going to remember a very urgent appointment elsewhere".

Buffy eyed the symbols then knelt beside him, running her hands over the soft rug as Spike watched her with glittering eyes. One hand reached out and tugged gently on the bow.

"Why only three hours?" she asked with a pout.

* * *

"I have to say, I'm liking this tub," Buffy said after a particularly trying training session with the Slayerettes. Spike grunted his agreement and sank farther into the hot jetted water, bubbles tickling the underside of his chin. She shifted against him, slippery and warm, and settled back into his waiting arms. "It's worth putting up with letting them manhandle you just for this".

"One of the perks of being Head Slayer".

"That and having you. I swear, if Darcy gets that handsy next time it's her turn to go up against you, I'll kill her myself. You're _mine_".

"Too right". They both sighed contentedly.

After a time, Buffy spoke again. "You don't think I was too harsh on them this morning? My whole Death and what it means to be a Slayer speech?"

"Thought it was good. 'Specially liked the axe you tossed at their heads. Harris was none too pleased with the hole in the drywall, though".

"He complains, but he secretly enjoys repairing the house. Anya says it makes him feel manly and useful".

Spike chuckled. "Think her sources are right? Think the First is really backing off for now?"

"Yeah, I bet it was putting a lot of stock in turning Willow. And it seems to have run out of Chaka Khans for the moment".

"Turok Han," he corrected absently.

"Whatever".

He shifted under her. "Hasn't been after me lately either".

"Well sure. It knows better than to mess with my man".

They fell silent, enjoying the peaceful moment with each other, Buffy lolling bonelessly against him.

Hands began to glide over her in familiar paths, strong and sure, soothing away the aches and building new tension in their place. "You need to stop," she moaned half-heartedly. "Dawnie says the girls are… uncomfortable… with the more, um… physical intimacy we share. Loudly. Too loudly, she says".

"Sod 'em," he growled, his mouth finding the spot on her neck that made all coherent thought disappear. "S'our house. We keep it confined to our room. They can take their delicate virgin ears elsewhere if they can't handle it".

She'd lost the gist of the discussion already, her body arching under his ministrations, but she wrenched it back. "Maybe… hnngg… maybe we should dial it down a bit".

"Or you could be more silent like".

There was a gasp, and then, "It's… not… me… they complain about," she managed to get out. Realizing there was no other way to talk to him, she placed her hands on his, stilling them. "How about if you wash my hair instead. And we'll find elsewhere to…"

Spike's hands deftly slid out from under hers, making her lose the thread once more. "'M not going to be sneaking around like what we're doing is wrong, Buffy," he rumbled as he reached for a cup with the hand not currently between her legs. "And if you think that washing your hair," he poured the cup of warm water down the back of her head, "is any less orgasmic for me than this," he continued with a nimble twist of his clever fingers, causing her to pant raggedly, "then you've forgotten who you're married to, kitten".

She hadn't forgotten. How could she, with his cock practically bruising her back?

Even though she'd been the one to suggest it, Buffy still keenly felt the loss when he abandoned his ministrations below, using both hands to lather her hair. The gentle pressure of his touch soon had her moaning again, leaving her limper than a noodle by the time the conditioner was rinsed out. She only gave a token protest when he lifted her out and set her on his knee on the edge of the tub, toweling her off as she leaned against his water-warmed chest, lapping at the droplets of water than ran down his neck with her tongue. With muscles like molten molasses, Buffy reached for his jutting arousal, the borrowed heat from the bath searing her hand.

"You're being contradictory, pet," he warned her. "Touch me and all bets are off".

"Our house," she whimpered as he throbbed in her hand. "They'll just have to deal".

* * *

"And she's sure?" Buffy asked.

"Positive. Althenea says the seers definitely located another Potential Slayer here in California. In Sacramento".

_Sacramento. Dawn. Oh come on, what are the odds? My life? Pretty good. Or… bad._

Internal conversation over, she said out loud, "Well, since Giles is off in Scotland…"

"Not Scotland," Willow corrected. "That was over Christmas. He's in China now".

"Where ever he is, it's not here. Which means it's up to us to fetch this one".

"Wait," Xander cut in. "The seers couldn't find her name? Or, like, her address or anything? Am I getting the definition of 'seer' wrong?"

Willow gave him an exasperated look and said, "Tara and I can go get her. There's a spell Althanea gave us to find her".

"And you're good with that?" Buffy asked cautiously.

Willow set her mouth grimly. "I can handle. It's like – magic with training wheels. It shouldn't set me off. And more importantly, Tara will be with me".

"I'm glad to hear it," Buffy said sincerely. "And Wills – For what it's worth, _I _think you can handle it just fine. You're tougher than you think".

Xander added his agreement, the three of them falling into a group hug.

* * *

"Little Bit?"

"Spike! Oh my god! I guess you heard about the excitement up here, huh?"

"Yeah. Listen, the witches said you were disappointed it was that Amanda bird from your school what was the missing Potential in Sacramento, not you. You still feeling that way?" There was silence on the other end. "You don't know how relieved Big Sis was that it wasn't you Niblet. She doesn't want that life for you. Nor do I, for that matter".

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's just… When I was visiting… All those girls. They get to be there with you and Buffy. Training with you. Being special. And I'm stuck up here by myself, left out".

"Makes you jealous?"

"Uh-huh," she admitted.

"None of them could ever be my Niblet".

"I guess".

Spike could hear the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. He tried again. "Not like any of these chits got to be a mystically glowy Key, was it?"

She snorted then, and he smiled.

"'Sides, imagine what it would be like. You think Buffy would let you train like the other girls? Let you go into danger? She'd keep you in bubble wrap and leave you behind with the Harris's. The other girls would pick on you and call you Slayer's pet".

Dawn giggled. "But I'd have you to teach me. Like you used to".

"When you come visit for Buffy's birthday, I'll teach you something new. Something even the high'n'mighty Slayer doesn't know, how 'bout?"

"Love you, Spike".

"Love you too, Niblet".

* * *

"Now, you're sure you'll all be alright here?" Giles asked.

"You'll only be gone two days," Dawn pointed out.

"As long as you're back Sunday for my birthday, that's all I care about," Buffy said lightly. "Besides, I think we've managed without you for a bit longer than that, you Mr. World Traveler you".

"Fair enough. I'm simply a bit twitchy about leaving you alone again with things in such a state of flux".

"I know, but you should go. The girls need this trip to understand the source of their power. And how to use it right".

"I don't think they appreciate the gravity of what we're undertaking. How frightening and difficult it is. Apparently somebody told them that the Visionquest consists of me taking them into the desert and doing the hokey pokey until a 'spooky rasta mama Slayer' appears and talks to them in riddles," Giles said dryly.

Shamefacedly, Buffy protested, "That's not _exactly_ the way I put it…"

* * *

"Let me get this straight… so you four decided to drive out to the desert and take on the First by yourselves? Who was the braintrust behind that one?" Buffy said incredulously.

"You and Spike were off on a job, and Tara and Willow were with the coven in L.A.," Dawn replied sullenly. "It's not like there was anyone else – and it was a crisis".

"Besides," Andrew said matter-of-factly, "It turns out Giles wasn't a manifestation of the First after all. I felt him up myself". He remained blithely unaware when the others turned sharply to him, disturbed by his phrasing.

"We had to do something," Anya said after a beat. "None of us could remember Giles touching anything since he came back. Or anyone. Not a hug or even a handshake".

"So, the gist of it is," Spike drawled, "you thought the berk was evil because he took a group of young girls on a camping trip and _didn't_ touch them?"

Dawn blushed, while Xander and Anya looked down at their feet.

Andrew leaned forward. "I don't get it".

* * *

Buffy walked into the living room where Willow sat using her laptop. "You and Tara all set for your shindig this weekend?"

Her friend smiled excitedly. "We are. Gotta say, feeling kinda nervous about the whole thing, Buffy. Now I know what you and Spike were going through".

"It'll be great. Just the Summers, the Pratts, the Harris's, Giles and…" Buffy frowned. "Whose last name are you two going with?"

"It's not legal, so, not like it matters. I guess we'll be the McClay-Rosenburgs? Hmm… too much of a mouthful…"

"Any which way – at least this time I'm not being forced to wear a hideous green dress". They both glanced around guiltily, but Anya was nowhere to be seen.

"Nope – it's a come as you are wedding". Willow bit her lip. "Do you mind that Althanea will be performing the ceremony? After all, you asked me to do it for you…"

"God no. I think you've planned everything out perfectly. It'll be the perfect Valentine's Day". Willow beamed, and Buffy let her bask for a moment before changing subjects. "So, find _anything_ on our good principal?"

"Still no. I've Googled 'til I just can't Google no more. Same results as last month. He's not in there".

Buffy scowled. "He's not getting any less suspicious".

"There aren't a lot of options. Either this guy has lived completely under the radar his whole life, or he only recently came into existence, or maybe he just took on a new identity, or he's a computer whiz who covered his own tracks".

"That's actually a lot of options". Buffy peered at the computer screen. "It's not even that his behaviour's that suspicious. But there he is, right over the Hellmouth all day every day. It's gotta be like being showered with evil, only from underneath. From beneath you… it showers".

"Not really a shower," Willow smiled.

"Well, a bidet then. A bidet of evil". She considered the situation. "I'll just have to break into his office and see what I can find".

* * *

Spike knelt by the door to the principal's office, tongue poking out the side of his mouth, fiddling with the lock.

"I thought you were good at this evil stuff," Buffy huffed impatiently.

"Calm your jets, luv. It's been a bit, but I assure you a lifetime spent in delinquency will soon…" He stood as the door clicked open and motioned her through with an over-gallant wave of his arm. "Pay off. Think our principal is not as upstanding as he appears to be. T'wasn't your standard issue school lock".

"What is he hiding?" she mused as she flicked on her flashlight.

Spike didn't have time to answer; a large commotion from somewhere else in the school drew their attention. With a quick glance at each other they abandoned their covert mission and raced towards the sounds of fighting. They came to a surprised halt as they saw Robin Wood engaged in fighting two vampires, with obviously well-practiced moves.

"He's no novice at this," Spike said lowly as the principal dusted one after the other, calmly and efficiently.

Robin bent over to catch his breath, then straightened, barely flinching when he saw Buffy and Spike studying him.

"Uh…" Buffy said. So much for smooth.

His eyes darted from one to the other, and then Robin said, "I guess we should talk". He strode off, leading the way to his office, only casting them a curious glance when he found the door already wide open. Switching on the lights, he motioned to the chairs. "Sit".

Spike sprawled in a chair but Buffy remained standing. "How the hell did you do that?"

"I've had a little practice. Never taken on two at once before, but I've taken out a vamp here or there, and some demons".

"Just kinda… freelance?"

"Freelance. That would be a good way to put it".

Buffy glanced at Spike, trying to get his take on the situation, but his face was unreadable. "So… do you know who I am?"

"You're the Slayer".

"I don't know why I even bother trying to keep it a secret," Buffy muttered. "And you came to Sunnydale because…"

"I maneuvered myself here. The Hellmouth draws the bad things in close. And now we're headed for something big, Buffy, and I need to be here when it happens. I want to help".

Flopping into the chair next to Spike, Buffy asked curiously, "Why didn't you tell me about you earlier?"

"I wasn't sure about things yet. I wasn't sure I was ready. To jump into the fight".

Spike spoke up. "And now you are?" His question was a touch challenging.

"Now the fight is starting. Or starting to start," Wood shrugged.

"You knew," Buffy said in realization. "You knew I was the Slayer before you got here".

"Yes," he answered simply.

"How? How do you know about Slayers?"

Robin looked at them both. "Right. Okay," he said, obviously deciding to trust them. "See, when I was a little boy, I had a mother who was one. The One. The Slayer".

Buffy grabbed Spike's hand for support. "You're – My god. I didn't know any Slayers had children".

"As far as I know, she was the only one. Anyway, she was killed when I was four. I remember her a little, but it's fuzzy, you know?"

"A demon? What…?" she asked sympathetically.

"A vampire. I saw him once – the monster was stalking her, from what her Watcher told me. I have this vague memory of them fighting in the rain while I hid behind a bench. And…" he shook his head, trying to remember. "The vamp said something I couldn't understand. Something about dancing".

He laughed as if the words were ridiculous, shaking off his reverie. "I went through this whole avenging son phase in my early twenties, but I never found the one who did it. So now I just dust as many of 'em as I can and hope I'll get him eventually". He brushed some vamp dust from his sleeves. "That's probably why those guys were here tonight. I'm not very popular with the bumpy forehead crowd".

Spike's fingers were stiff in hers. She gave him a curious look, but his face remained impassive despite his overly tense posture. He was vibrating, ready to spring from the chair and flee.

Robin continued with his story, distracting Buffy from her concern for her husband. When he was finished, he asked conversationally, "So. You two have big plans for Valentine's Day?"

"We haven't really decided…" Buffy said hesitantly.

"Huh. 'Cause I know the most romantic little French restaurant. I'd be happy to tell you where it is".

"Thanks," she smiled, and rose. "I think we need to get going. Spike?"

He rose stiffly. After Buffy and the principal made their goodbyes, Spike paused in the doorway, his intent gaze fixed on Robin's face. "Your mother. Where did she…?"

"New York".


	65. Chapter 65

**Author's Notes: **I can't believe it's almost the end! But then I can work on something new without getting my wires all crossed.

* * *

"Spike! Slow down!" Buffy called after him. He stopped abruptly, tense and distraught. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

He glanced back at the school, where the light from the principal's office could still be seen, casting yellow illumination over front lawn. His voice was low and raw when he spoke. "Remember that story I told you on the subway?"

Buffy nodded, her face a mask of confusion.

"In _New York_?" Spike asked pointedly.

"Oh!" she gasped as understanding dawned. "Oh, Spike. You think?"

He nodded miserably. "Fairly certain, pet".

She pulled her to him, holding him close as his body trembled. "What do you want to do? You want to tell him?"

"I – Dunno. Didn't know she had a kid". He laughed harshly. "Not that it would have made any difference. Well – probably would have eaten him first. Made her watch. Would have found it funny". He was trembling violently now.

She didn't react to his admission. She'd seen the face of his evil, literally, in a cave in Africa. His words were not a shock. "Come on, baby. Let's go home and talk about it, okay? Not here". She tugged him along to the car. "Can you drive? Or should I?"

He straightened with a sniff. "Never be so hysterical 'm gonna voluntarily let you behind the wheel of my car".

* * *

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Spike had found out the local principal was the son of the second Slayer he had offed. And the man was right, Spike _had_ stalked her. Followed her. Tormented her and played with her, like a cat with a mouse. Not in Angelus' way, but in his own. Learning her moves and letting her know he was there. Waiting. To be the last one on her dance card. He'd considered it one of the best periods of his long existence.

Until Buffy had fallen in love with him. That went without saying.

Spike had learned to compartmentalize the guilt he felt since acquiring his soul. Vampire. No conscience. Hence, couldn't much be held accountable for what he'd done while lacking his Jiminy Cricket.

It was how he survived the guilt.

The walls all came tumbling down when faced with a flesh'n'blood victim of his crimes. One who had, no matter how casually he discussed it, suffered by his mother's death.

'Course – she was a Slayer. Would have met her gory end sooner or later, if not from him, then some other demon. Nikki had been on borrowed time – one of the longest lived Slayers ever. 'Til Buffy. Spike scratched his chest, distracted by wondering if Buffy actually counted, seeing how as she'd already died.

But no matter. Ironic though it was, Spike intended to have a new designation when it came to Slayers. No longer 'Slayer of', but 'Protector of'. Surely that made up for something.

Not as far as Nikki was concerned.

"So, will you tell my son today that you're the one?" she repeated, drawing him out of his reverie.

_No_, he thought to himself. _Won't help. Won't make him feel better. Or me_. It was what he told himself every day when she first showed and asked him that as her opening gambit.

Yeah, Spike knew she was the First, trying to bust his balls. And doing a mighty fine job of it, he might add. Every time _she_ showed, his equanimity, his sense of self-worth, slipped a little farther. He regressed a little more into the crazy he'd left behind in Africa, more than a year ago. Felt his confidence slip. He couldn't posture at being the Big Bad – not even the Big Bad Good guy he was these days. Since she'd begun showing daily, he found he'd rather turn tail and run than tussle with a demon. Hide in the bedroom with a bottle of whiskey and…

Damn it, he'd told himself he wasn't going to brood. His refusal to be like Captain Forehead was the only thing that kept him out of the bedroom, out of the dark, out of the gloomy contemplation of all his evil.

She was waiting for his answer, but this time he would ignore the nasty bitch and all her tricks. He steeled himself for the expected onslaught of words. It was the only weapon she had. All he had to do was not take them to heart.

"Thought you had more strength of character than that, Spike. Look at you, cowering in fear over what you've done. Don't you remember? How good it felt when my neck snapped in your hands? I _know_ you liked it, boy. Felt that big ole woody in your pants poking into me. Bet it still makes you hard. You think about me when you're buried in the other Slayer's pussy? Imagine snapping her neck like you did mine? You got a rep to uphold boy. What you getting all sissy for now?"

On and on she yammered, just as she did any time he was alone, and even when he wasn't.

It was enough to drive a bloke right 'round the bend.

He'd hid it from Buffy well enough so far. After his initial confession, she'd left it up to him, what to do and when. She trusted him to do what was right. What he couldn't tell her was that her trust in him made him feel lower than ever. He didn't deserve it.

_Monster…_

Spike hadn't thought of himself that way in a long time. The refrain echoed relentlessly in his head now, underpinning everything he said and did.

"You know my baby cried for months after? Couldn't sleep at night, in case the bad man came after him too".

And he would have. Would have ended young Robin's life just as callously. If only he had known. Because that's who he was. A killer.

_A monster_…

* * *

Principal Wood joined Buffy in the gym as the club members finished up their training and left for the day. "These kids are really improving".

"Yeah. They don't know it, but I'm training them to stay alive when some monster tries to pick them off in a dark alley. Maybe something will stick".

Robin rubbed his hand over his shiny pate. "It's getting bad, Buffy, here in the school, never mind the dark alley. Students are… It's starting I think. Fights all week. Three students missing. Increased vandalism. Tell me, in your professional opinion, is this it?"

Buffy nodded. "The Hellmouth below us is starting its semi-annual percolation. Usually blows around May".

"Was it like this before? Seems like things are getting bad faster than we thought".

"We're a little ahead of schedule".

He sighed deeply. "I can't. I'm just one guy. This is going to get bigger than me".

"Yeah. It is".

"Come with me, Buffy, to my office. There's something I want to give you. Something I think of as… my emergency kit".

* * *

That weekend, Robin joined the team, so to speak. Buffy brought him to tour command central and introduced him to her other warriors for the cause. Sadly, even Andrew was included in that elite group. Displaying her entire arsenal to a relative stranger made Buffy realize just how unprepared they actually were.

Thus it was purely natural when, after Chloe hung herself, Buffy chose to break out the 'emergency kit,' inviting Robin to join them. The First Slayer had told her only that morning, in a dream, that it wasn't enough. Whatever she was doing to stop the coming apocalypse, it wasn't enough.

Which is why she'd upped the ante. Called everyone on their fear, their inability to contribute – her own sense of dread making her harsh, cruel to her friends and a bunch of terrified little girls. She'd even laid into Spike, chastising him for the meeker than typical attitude he'd been sporting of late.

It was time to find new resources, step up her game. Whatever it took. She broke open the locked box they'd found in the leather satchel Robin had bestowed upon her.

Andrew read the ancient Sumerian instructions while Xander assembled the Shadow casters. When the portal appeared, there was no time for debate. Buffy dove through.

On the other side, she passed up the opportunity to get further knocked up by demon dust. She was all with the 'been there, done that', thank you very much. The chains they'd put her in hadn't held for more than a moment, anyhow. Stupid old guys.

They told her she was the _last_ guardian of the Hellmouth, which she kinda forgot to question them on after they pulled out the box chock full o' demon. Then they offered her knowledge of what was to come.

The First Slayer was right.

It wasn't enough.

* * *

Spike was off having a bit of a sulk when Buffy invited him to join them in the war room for an emergency session. Still miffed that she had called him out in front of all the others like that, he declined politely, but it wasn't long before whatever they were doing in there pulled him in. Strange winds and thudding drums weren't part of their typical household cacophony, so he went to investigate. And arrived just in time to see her leap through a rapidly disappearing portal. With no time to join her.

Fuck.

Was he forever cursed to lose her every time he gave in to his bleeding temper?

The demon that appeared in Buffy's place gave Spike something to focus his anger on. Vamping, he laid into the creature, beating him mercilessly, taking all of his frustration out on it, uncaring of the damage he was causing to the living room.

Until Principal Wood – and what was he doing there? – grabbed his arm, spinning him around, allowing the sodding demon to burst through the bloody picture window and escape.

"You – you're a _vampire_?" he demanded incredulously.

"Have been for many years, mate," he snapped, shaking the bald man's hand off.

"But – but I've seen you. In the sun. You can't".

Spike grinned nastily, still in game face. "Can. Do. 'M not your average vamp, am I?"

"Spike has a -". He quelled Willow with a glare. His soul was his own sodding business, and he didn't think news of it would make much difference to a man as dedicated to revenge as Robin Wood.

The principal looked like he was going to kick up more of a fuss, but Willow sidetracked them all by completely blowing her top over the enormity of trying to get Buffy back. The witch still wasn't too keen on magic after her sojourn with the First. Not that Spike blamed her. He wasn't too keen on having to go after the demon either, not with how he'd been feeling of late, but seeing as he was the only choice…

Spike listened to the others for a moment, until he was sure they had things in hand. "Slayer's counting on you Willow. Get cracking on the portal, and don't be stingy with the mojo". He grinned ferally. "Demon's mine".

He headed upstairs, Robin calling after him, "Where are you going?"

"Just one thing I need".

He'd put it away, unable to wear it with the rightful owner dropping by for tea and culpability every day. But Buffy wanted Big and Bad and dangerous. Hell, right now, Buffy _needed_ Big and Bad and dangerous. What could he say? The coat did it for him.

Swaggering back down the stairs as he swirled the worn leather over his shoulders and slid his arms inside, he heard Wood say, "Nice coat". Spike didn't respond. Didn't need that reminder right now. And, 'sides, the bloke had seen him in it before. Wasn't worth a response. He continued out the door, almost faltering when Robin added, "Where'd you get it?"

The wanker was bright. Brighter than Spike had given him credit for. His bravado started to slip. Until he remembered Buffy calling him weepy. In front of a whole bleeding roomful of tasty little Happy Meals.

Bugger it all. Spike wasn't going to cower anymore. Done was done.

Without breaking stride, he drawled out, "New York," in as an indifferent voice as he could manage. And sent back a two-fingered salute over his shoulder as a parting gesture.

* * *

When he found the demon, Spike let his own out to play. Let the bloodlust take control. Slipping the Gem of Amarra off his finger and into his pocket, he attacked. Because a tumble like that?

Good for the soul.

* * *

When Buffy came stumbling back through the portal, only Willow, Tara, Xander and Spike remained. She took them in, gasping with relief at being home and fright over what she'd seen.

Spike offered her a hand. She took it, noting with bewilderment that he was bruised and bloody – a look he hadn't sported in… years? Pushing aside her desire to pull him into her arms and kiss every cut, every bruise, she let go of his hand and moved to the couch, sitting heavily. "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah, swell," Xander answered. "Buffy. What happened? Where'd you go? Did you learn anything?"

Her only response was to shiver.

* * *

They hadn't talked last night after her return. Well, sure, she'd talked about what she'd seen and learned while he listened. Seemed a mite more important than the minor crisis he was having. She'd asked him a few questions about how things had gone in her absence, then proceeded to show him with her mouth and body how sorry she was for what she'd said earlier. And that was fine. The weight of the world was on her shoulders, and if it made her snappish, well, she had good reason. Spike wasn't going to add to her worries.

She'd fallen into a deep slumber after, and Spike had watched her. Smoothed her hair when she trembled and thrashed in her sleep. When morning came and she was still asleep, he forced himself out of bed. Dressing, he donned his duster and headed for the school.

The principal was in his office. Without knocking, Spike entered, noting that the man didn't start or flinch at Spike's unannounced arrival, only narrowed his eyes appraisingly.

"Reckon you know who I am, then".

"I sure remember my mother's coat. You always keep trophies?"

Spike ignored the jibe, wanting to say his piece. "Right. Well, here it is. That wasn't me. Or, it was, but it's not who I am anymore. You know Slayers. I wouldn't be in the inner circle if I wasn't a bloody white hat now. At any rate, can't undo it, can't make it right, and I s'pect an apology would mean even less to you. She was a Slayer, I was a vampire, that's the way the game's played, and done is done. What I need to know is, are we going to have a problem?"

"A _game_? My mother was a _game_ to you?"

"I'll take it that's a yes to my question". Spike gave the man a pitying look. "She knew what she was signing up for," he said more gently.

"I didn't sign up for it," was the bitter response.

"Well, that's the rub, innit? Slayers are marked for death, mate. She knew that, and she still chose to work the mission, not walk away, not leave it for you. Nikki was well aware her time was counted in days, not years".

"Shut up," Robin barked. "You didn't know her".

"I know Slayers. No matter how many people they got around them, in the end, they fight alone. The life of the Chosen One. Rest of us be damned". Spike shook his head sadly. "This one – she has people. Even when she forgets it, she has us. And that includes me – and you". Spike sat in the chair across the desk from the principal and looked him in the eye. "Both of us, mate. She's carrying the world on her back. Don't add to it. So I ask you again – are we going to have a problem?"

"How do I know you're trustworthy? A so-called white hat? This could all be part of some elaborate plot to-".

"Three years. Three years I've loved this woman and done all that I can to be the man she deserves. T'would be one hell of an elaborate plot. Look, I don't know you well enough to share my life story, but I will tell you, my evil days are long gone and they're _never_ coming back. Buffy – she changes a man, she does".

"You're not a man".

"S'pose not. But I'm not the monster you want me to be either".

"And does she know? Who you are? The things you've done, the people you've murdered?" His voice rose, and Spike could hear the barely disguised pain threatening to break free.

"Yeah, mate. She knows. Knows the best and the worst of me. Knows it all".

* * *

The school seemed to erupt into chaos after that. He helped the principal manage the worst of it despite the tension between them, and then Spike found himself in the basement, the pull of the Hellmouth irresistible.

His mother was waiting for him. Evidently Nikki had been exorcized.

"William Harrison Pratt. I know I didn't raise a liar".

"No Mum, you didn't," he mumbled, perching on an unused desk and holding his head in his hands. Spike was tired. He hadn't slept in almost thirty hours now, and he just wanted to go home, pull his wife into his arms, and sleep for a solid day. He forced himself back up and towards the stairs while his ersatz mother followed.

"I do not comprehend it, William. How could you lie to the principal?"

He knew it was the First. It still didn't stop him from flinching like a little boy, shamed by his mother's disapproval.

"I – I'm sorry, Mother. I wasn't aware that I had lied". The cultured tones of his youth slipped out of his mouth without a second thought.

"My, you have turned out to be such a disappointment to me, William. You told the poor man that your dear wife knew the best and the worst of you". She coughed delicately into a handkerchief, the sight of the blood making Spike's throat constrict. "But you've never told her about me, have you my dear?"

He shook his head.

She smiled at him, a mocking echo of the loving way his real mother had looked at him. Reaching out to caress him with an ephemeral hand, she smiled indulgently. "It's alright, my son. You always were weak. Less of a man than any of your peers. But a mother loves you anyhow".

Spike felt sick. He looked away, wondering if his mother had truly felt that was about him. She wouldn't have been wrong. Anne Pratt tsked and he turned back, unable to help himself, his gorge rising as he faced her.

"There there, precious," she sneered, fangs extended, "It will only hurt for a moment".


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Notes:**

Many thanks to all the wonderful writers of BtVS from whom I have liberally borrowed a lot of dialogue. And to all my readers and reviewers.

* * *

When his mother continued to plague him with unwanted visits, Spike knew what he had to do. As soon as he'd confessed to Wood, the power of Nikki's thrall over him had broken, causing the First to try a new tack. He figured confessing to Buffy what he perceived to be his greatest sin would do the trick again, release him from the insidious torture of being reminded daily just how evil he was. The First likely didn't think he had it in him, seeing as he hadn't come clean to Robin until his hand had been forced.

But what was Buffy always saying? To surprise the First by surprising themselves, by doing what they thought they couldn't.

Time to show the bastard whose wrinklies were bigger.

He waited until they were on patrol, alone. "Buffy. I want to tell you something". He spoke without looking at her as they wended their way through the gravestones

"Sure, sweetie. Anything". She squeezed his hand encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath, he said quickly, before he could lose his nerve, "I've never told you the worst thing I did. When I was all evil-like. My mother, she was sick, see, with consumption. It was – I loved her so much and there was nothing that could be done for it in those days". He fell silent, remembering.

Buffy squeezed his hand again, and said straight-forwardly, "Spike. Dawn told me. You turned her".

"Huh? How the bloody hell did she know?" he asked, taken aback.

"You told her. When I was dead. You would get drunk and tell her things… I guess you don't remember".

Spike frowned, thinking hard. "No, can't say as I do".

She'd stopped walking and was looking up at him now, the trust and love shining from her face making his undead heart clench. "I – Oh, Spike. Even then, it was all about love for you. I'm so sorry your mother wasn't the same after you turned her. Most vampires, there's nothing human left in them. You know that. It wasn't your fault".

He leaned into the hand she cupped his cheek with. "Was. I turned her. No one else. My fault she became… that". He closed his eyes, wondering how much he'd told Dawn, if Buffy knew the malicious things his mother had said before he'd killed her.

"It wasn't her. Whatever she said, whatever she did, it wasn't her".

"But why?" he whispered. "I was still me. I still loved her". He bit his cheek to keep back the tears.

"I don't know. I don't know why you kept so much good inside of you and she didn't. You told me yourself, it's rare. Extremely rare, that a vampire can put aside evil. You're one in a million, William Pratt. Your mother… wasn't. For whatever reason, she couldn't be like you".

The tears were falling now. "She was so good. So pure, Buffy. And I took that away from her. Turned her into a cruel, vicious monster".

Buffy pulled him into her arms, letting him cry into her neck. "You fixed it, though. You didn't leave her to live like that. And she would have forgiven you, Spike. She would have understood you did it out of love".

"Love," he said bitterly through his tears.

"Yes, love. You – you have the biggest heart of anyone, alive or dead. It's nothing short of amazing. You're nothing short of amazing, Spike. And your mother, she knew that, and she loved you. Just like I love you".

"You don't think she meant the nasty things she said? Just a little bit?"

"No. I don't. It was a demon speaking".

"A demon. Christ. Even a demon can speak the truth".

"Or a demon can take all your worries and insecurities, all the things you want to hear least and use them to wound you… Even a demon that might be a little bit good inside is quite adept at being cruel". He lifted his head and frowned at her, brow creasing. "You always knew exactly how to hurt me the most," she explained. "Back when that's what you still wanted to do".

"God, Buffy. I don't deserve you".

"You do. You really, really do". She kissed his tear-stained eyes. "Your mother would be proud of who you are now".

Spike contemplated that as they resumed their patrol, wondering if she was right.

* * *

"…And I killed Jonathon," Andrew cried as Buffy dangled him over the glowing seal. "And you're going to kill me, and I'm afraid, and I'm going to die. And this is what Jonathon felt," he sobbed, a tear rolling down his cheek and splattering onto the seal below.

As if a switch had been flicked, the seal stopped glowing, lying quiescent and unthreatening.

"It stopped," Andrew said in disbelief.

"It didn't want your blood. It wanted your tears".

* * *

Up above, the students fell quiet, walking away as if nothing had occurred.

"She got it done," Wood said.

"Always has," the vampire replied proudly as he looked around at the departing teens. He turned to Wood, noting the tension in the man, the way he was still gripping his weapon, eyeing Spike. "You want a piece of me, Principal?"

The tension drained away, leaving Wood cool and collected. "Nope. No problems here, Spike".

* * *

Giles sat in the war room, fiddling with his cup of tea.

"So I didn't stop it then?" Buffy asked. She gestured to the man she'd introduced to Giles that morning. "Robin says the school seems to be back to normal. Well, as normal as we get on the Hellmouth".

"The seers in the coven are certain the First is continuing to gather its forces. The few Potential Slayers left across the globe are still being murdered before we can get to them," Giles said gravely. "I'm afraid war is inevitable".

* * *

"Buffy… Are you aware that Robin Wood harbors a deep grudge against Spike?"

Buffy smiled tightly at Giles. "Yes. And, well, can't exactly blame him".

"Indeed. However, I am concerned that his resentment may be a liability in this time of war. We cannot afford to keep a loose cannon about. Any one of us is expendable in this conflict". As Buffy gaped at him, he corrected himself. "I am not suggesting that we kill him, certainly. Only that we may need to cut him loose. Encourage him to leave town".

"Oh I don't think it'll come to-"

"He intends to kill, Spike, Buffy. He came to me for aid, assuming, I suppose, that as a Watcher I could not tolerate your liaison with a vampire".

She shook her head in dismay. "I knew Robin was freaked out about Spike, but I figured he'd come around eventually, once he had some time to think about it". She stood up with a sigh. "I'm not worried about Spike. We both know Robin won't succeed. But you're right, it could be a distraction when we need one least".

* * *

They stood in his office, the door shut tight against outsiders, both of them breathing heavily.

"You're looking for revenge on a man who doesn't exist anymore," Buffy said heatedly.

"Don't delude yourself," Robin retorted. "That man still exists…"

"If you try anything, I _will_ kill you. Nobody touches my husband".

"God, Buffy, that's just sick. How can you stand yourself?"

Her lips thinned. "I have a mission. To win this war, save the world. I don't have time for your vendettas. Your need to avenge your mother is not what matters. The mission is what matters. If you can't get over it, and now, then you need to get the hell out of town". She strode to the door and yanked it open. "Spike is a hero. A better man than you will ever be. _That's_ how I stand myself".

* * *

"Why the hell don't you ever take us along for the real action," Kennedy demanded. "We've been training, some of us for years. We're ready".

"No, you're not".

"And yet you take Xander with you. What kind of skills does he have that we don't? Somehow I don't think spackling counts".

"You don't want to know what he can do with a hammer. Look, Kennedy, I'm the Slayer. I'm the boss. It's my job to lead, to make sure you live, so get used to it. And if I say you're not going, you're not going".

* * *

The front door blew open and Willow stomped in. "Hey! How was L.A.?" Buffy inquired cheerfully.

"Next time you feel like giving one of your big speeches about how we all need to give more, I want you to remember this," she replied, tight-lipped and pale with repressed anger.

"What do you mean?" she began, but the question died on her lips as she saw who was following her best friend in.

"Hey B," Faith drawled from the doorway. "Miss me?" Buffy only stared. With a glance up the staircase, Faith laughed. "Well I see you two love birds managed to work things out".

"Get out of my house," Spike snarled as he stormed down the steps, livid with rage. "You're not welcome here". The handful of Potentials that had been drawn by the sound of somebody arriving stood slack-jawed, terrified of this never-before-seen facet of the vampire they shared a house with.

Faith winced, but played it off. "No big. I'm betting the Sunnydale Inn is still open for business. Hell, that rat trap can only be a step up from where I've been the last few years".

Buffy, still in shock, said nothing, watching the scene play out. She was as enthralled by Spike's wrath as the Potentials. "Jail was too good for you, bitch," he growled in full vamp-face from the foot of the stairs.

Faith narrowed her eyes. "I wonder, which one is it that gets you hot and bothered, _Willy_ – the memory of what I did, or the memory of what _you_ did?" Spike's jaw clenched, and he had no answer to that. Faith smiled nastily. "Did you show Blondie that little move you taught me? The one with the rope around the neck? Because, damn that was hot".

Buffy's eyes widened in horror, and Faith turned on her. "You have been keeping him satisfied, haven't you?"

That snapped her out of her flabbergasted silence. "Shut up, Faith, or I will make an exception to my no killing humans rule" she threatened.

The other Slayer laughed bitterly. "Yeah, funny how you seem to do that 'round me". She glanced at the thin-lipped Willow, then said, "Angel says hi by the way".

Buffy glared at her, working desperately to keep a lid on her temper, keep from flying at the cow and beating her senseless. Spike was doing the same, his fists clenched so tightly blood was seeping from them and dripping to the floor below. Faith lolled nonchalantly against the doorjamb, sneering disdainfully while their audience ranged about them, waiting in rapt fascination for the outcome.

Moments passed, with no one moving to break the détente until Giles entered from the kitchen. "Faith!" he exclaimed in surprise, not realizing the powder keg he'd walked in on. "Are you here to help?" he asked her cautiously.

She smiled. "Well. At least one person has their priorities straight. Sure am".

"Thank goodness, we need all the help we can get," he said with mildly restrained British enthusiasm. "Buffy, where were you planning on putting her?"

"I'm thinking, hospital," she muttered distastefully.

"Be like old times, wouldn't it B?" Faith needled.

Before Buffy could reply, Willow broke in. "Hospital! Oh Goddess, I got distracted! We found a hurt Potential just outside of town. Tara stayed with her".

"Tell me about it," Giles said quickly.

As Willow described what had happened, Buffy barely paid attention, the majority of her awareness focused on Spike. His jaw was ticking, his eyes flashing gold, his fists still clenched. He was cold and hard like she hasn't seen him in years. Damage bound.

As furious as Faith made her, Giles was right. They needed all the help they could get. And the rogue Slayer did have a point – was Spike's anger fuelled by his disgust with Faith? Or with himself?

She breathed deeply, trying to let her own anger go. Faith, despite her current attitude, had shown remorse. Had willingly stayed in jail when she needn't have. Had changed, just as much as Spike. If Buffy could forgive the vampire…

Sidling up to him after Willow was done talking and the crowd had dispersed, she put a soft hand on his shoulder. "Hey," she whispered. "I love you". He relaxed incrementally under her touch. "And Giles has a point. We need her".

"I can't, Buffy," he rasped. "I'll kill her. If she keeps talking like that, I'll kill her".

"So you're saying I shouldn't be jealous, then," she joked softly.

"No, bloody hell, no, pet. What you said back then – about having a soul – you were right. What I did, it never really bothered me until… When I think on it now, I want to vomit. Or cry. I get now how wrong it was, and if she keeps reminding me…"

"She won't. She's just – that's what Faith does. She's hurting as much as we are, and she's hiding behind barbs designed to cut deep". She leaned into him, forcing him to relax his posture and wrap his arms around her. "Like you said, you were there too. And you got a second chance. You proved yourself better than that. She deserves the same opportunity".

"She says one more word…"

"And I'll beat her myself. Come on, Spike. We have to try, you know we do".

He slumped against her. "Fair enough. But she knew what she was doing, Buffy. She did it on purpose, to hurt you. So keep the cunt away from me".

She kissed him on the cheek. "Somehow, I don't think I'm going to mind doing that".

They were upstairs before she asked, "Do I want to know this thing about the rope?"

"No," he said curtly.

"Did – did you like it?"

His voice was tight. "You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Would you still like it? Is this something you want to do with me?" she asked, a little fearful of the answer. "Tell me, please?" she pressed when he didn't reply. "I need you to be honest with me".

Spike let out a pent-up breath. "'M still a demon, Buffy. 'M always gonna be drawn to chaos and violence, always gonna take pleasure in inflicting suffering and pain. Can't… can't help it, however much I disgust myself".

He didn't look at her as he said, "Even now, a part of me wants to tear downstairs, rip out everybody's throat 'n bathe in their blood. But… it's the smallest part of me. The part that matters least. So, yeah, the demon in me might be interested. Might have some real dark fantasies. But the part of me that's a man? That's your husband? That part of me doesn't _ever_ want you to be that girl. So can we drop it now?" he begged. "Let me forget how I used to be and love you the way I want instead?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I'm making it worse. Stopping now". She hugged him once more. "I love you so much, Spike. And what you did with Faith? You made up for it even before you got a soul".

"Still wish…"

"Don't". They held each other tightly. When Spike's arms began to loosen, the anger draining away, she said, "I really should go talk to her. A bit more politely. Get her settled in. You okay?"

"Just dandy, Slayer," he grimaced. When she hesitated, he shooed her out the door. "Go on. I'll be waiting here for you, luv".

* * *

It was weeks now since Robin had last spoken to Buffy. She'd see him at school, in the hallway, where he would nod curtly to her and avert his eyes, moving quickly past. If she and Faith could put their history aside, with the other Slayer now settling uncomfortably into her house, she had to believe the situation with Robin could be similarly resolved.

She let herself into his office when he was alone, then shut door and stood in front of it, blocking his escape.

"I'm sorry about what's happened, I truly am. I meant what I said before – I don't have time for your vendettas – but I need you in this fight. I want you on my side".

"Why?" he asked grimly.

"Why?" she repeated. "Because you're a good fighter. You have a good head on you. You're a valuable resource. But more than that, I like you Robin. I think you're a good man".

"Thank you," he said after a long hesitation. "That – it means a lot to me," he added, conciliatory.

"So we're good?"

"Absolutely. You can't run your self-defense club anymore".

"That makes me – huh?"

"Effective immediately".

"Hold on – I just made with the olive branch! Are you trying to provoke me into kicking your ass after all?"

"Buffy – the club is already obsolete, you know that. People are leaving town in droves, half the kids don't even show up to school anymore. You've got more important things on your plate. Look at the big picture".

"Right. The big picture of the big war with all the dead little girls".

"Not dead. Not if you get them ready. Are you going to be ready for it?"

"I don't know… These girls. They've never been tested in battle".

"Then I guess maybe you should test them".

* * *

"We've got a new player in town. Dresses like a preacher. Calls himself Caleb. Looks like he's working for the First".

"So he's like… the Second?" Andrew asked.

Buffy ignored him. She couldn't do light-hearted. Not now. "He's taunting us. Calling us out. Says he has something of mine. Could be another girl. Could be something else. Don't know, don't care".

She looked directly at Kennedy, then at the other girls who had been questioning her decisions to leave them at home. "I'm tired of talking at you. Tired of training. He's got something of mine? Fine, I'm getting it back". She paused, then said, "And this time you get your wish. You guys are coming with me".

* * *

Tailing the Bringer with Faith in an attempt to locate Caleb's hidey-hole, Buffy gritted her teeth and tried to play nice with the other Slayer. Finally, she couldn't help herself.

"Why'd you come back?"

"Willow said you needed me. I didn't give it a lot of thought. Do you… Are we back to you not wanting me to be here?"

Buffy closed her eyes. "No. That's not what I meant". With great effort, she said. "I'm glad you're here. It's good. Thank you".

"You know me. I'm all with the good deeds".

"Like with Angel. Getting his soul back".

"You want to know what's crazy? They did this spell, to make him think he was having his perfect moment. What do you suppose he called out right before the soul disappeared?"

Buffy blanched. "I – I don't know".

"Your name, cutie-pie. How's that make you feel, knowing you're still his one-and-only?" Buffy couldn't answer. She'd heard Angel had moved on, but… maybe he hadn't, not really. The thought left her sad. "I know how I feel. Pretty damn amazed. You have all the cool vampires falling at your feet. Wonder what your secret is".

Buffy still didn't say anything, so Faith moved on with a shrug. "This vampire with a soul thing is a real trip. I mean the darkness and the light. I can see it in Spike, the difference now".

"Don't talk about him, Faith," she said lowly, finding her voice.

"We're all crammed up in one house. Gonna be hard to avoid the subject, B. I'm not aiming for your man anymore, if that's what you're worried about. Not like it matters, he's all wrapped up around your precious little finger anyhow".

"Just… don't". An uneasy silence hung between them as they continued following the Bringer without any more conversation.

Buffy sighed with relief when she saw that they had appeared to reach their destination, and pointed it out silently. They watched as Bringers arrived from all directions, headed for the same door.

"Looks like we found our hornet's nest," Faith said.

"Let's go get the cavalry".

* * *

"So you're the Slayer. _The_ Slayer. The strongest and fastest and most aflame with that most precious invention of all mankind: the notion of goodness. The Slayer must indeed be powerful".

Spike watched with shock as the preacher-man let loose a punch out of nowhere. A punch that rocketed Buffy backwards through the air, as if she were nothing more than a rag doll, leaving her to slide limply down a wall.

"So. What else you got?"

With a roar of fury, he attacked.

* * *

Buffy's head ached. The sounds of screaming and chaos were not helping at all. Screaming and…

She sprang up, horrified. The man who called himself Caleb had knocked her out with a single blow. Dear God, what was he?

"Xander," she cried out, catching his attention as she took in the condition of her 'army'. "Get them out of here. We have to retreat".

From across the room, she watched in dismay as Caleb took hold of Molly, helpless in his clutches, and gutted her. Screaming, she launched herself at him.

"That's it. Show me your fire".

This time, she managed to hold her own, trading vicious blows with him. He was stronger than her, but not by as much as she had originally feared. Her anger fueled her, driving her on, until Spike grabbed her by the arm.

"Buffy! We're leaving".

She looked around and realized he was right. Now wasn't the time to finish this, with wounded and dying girls who needed to be gotten to safety.

They had almost made it out of there, Rona between them, when they heard Xander's scream.


	67. Chapter 67

**Author's Notes: **This chapter was the point where I realized the ending I had been working towards all this time? Not going to work. But I was happy with the way it turned out.

* * *

"I – I can't do this". She paced anxiously. "I shouldn't have brought them there. God, Xander…"

Spike grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her nervous movement. "So, what? You should have done nothing? Sat at home on your delectable arse and waited for the First to come to you?"

"I don't know. I just…" She looked up at him, eyes full of tears. "I don't think we're going to win this," she whispered. "I don't know how".

"Nonsense. We had a setback, is all". Buffy sighed deeply, and he rested his forehead against hers. "We'll get through this, luv. Just like everything else the First has thrown at us. It's just trying a different tact 'cause everything else it's tried so far has failed".

"I'm thinking this time? Point for the forces of evil," she grimaced, her entire body radiating despair. "I can't go down there and face them, Spike. They look at me, and all I see is anger and blame".

He shook her gently. "And without you, they'd _all_ be dead already. Every single bleeding one of them. They give you the responsibility, and with it comes the blame. I'd like to see any one of them do better".

Buffy leaned into him, taking solace in his comforting _there_-ness. "You're just biased 'cause you love me".

"Or maybe I love you because that's who you are, you silly bint".

* * *

Buffy passed out the folders briskly, coolly. "Okay, so we're looking for anything that looks like Caleb: his church, his ring…"

"His ability to render a Slayer useless in just one punch," Kennedy said snidely.

Buffy paled as Anya added, "We could always follow the trail of eyeballs".

Faith glared at them, coming to her defense, but Buffy was already up and moving. For days now she'd avoided them all, and this was the reason why. "Right. Well, you guys get started on this. I've gotta go… do something else".

Walking quickly through the nearly empty town, she tried to make herself go to the hospital, go visit Xander, whom she'd barely spent twenty minutes with since the accident. Every time she stood in front of her injured friend, she found herself fleeing, Xander and Willow's disappointed looks following her down the halls.

She couldn't help it though. Not since the days of Angelus had anyone she loved suffered a permanent injury because of her. Because of their association with the Slayer, and her selfish willingness to use their loyalty and put them in harm's way. She couldn't bear to see proof of the failure that was her.

Instead of the hospital, she found herself at Sunnydale High. Where it had all begun for her friends. Buffy wandered to where the library would have stood, where Wood's office was now, and sat down in his chair. It didn't matter that she was there; the school was deserted, abandoned, like the rest of Sunnydale.

"Cattle are all moving out," had been Spike's remark last week on seeing the roads backed up with fleeing residents. "Always wondered just what it would take to get these people to leave town".

And now they knew. Nothing less than ultimate evil.

Buffy and her gang of fighters were the only stupid ones left. _Not my gang anymore,_ she thought glumly. _Not since the wine cellar_.

The thought that maybe even her friends had finally had enough was all it took to set loose the tears she'd been holding back ever since that night.

"Aw, now, look. Things don't go exactly your way, so here come the waterworks". Buffy looked up, even though she didn't need to in order to identify the speaker. "Ain't that just like a woman".

* * *

Spike came down the stairs, freshly showered and dressed. A quick flare of his nostrils told him Buffy was out. "What're you lot working on?" he asked Giles.

The Watcher passed him a magnifying glass and a photo. "Have a look".

Spike examined the photo. "Ah. Looks like our boy was here". He rubbed his chin, considering. "Suppose one of us should go check it out. Meaning yours truly".

Giles nodded. "It would be for the best. We need somebody who can handle themselves in case Caleb left any… souvenirs".

"Not trying to get rid of me now, are you Watcher?"

Smiling fondly, Giles clasped the vampire's shoulder. "Spike. You know we'd be lost without you".

"Pshaw, don't be getting maudlin on me, old man".

"You do realize that this is as close as we'll ever come to expressing affection for each other?"

"S'what we Brits do best, innit?" Teasing aside, Spike asked, "Want me to take anyone along?"

"Can you take Andrew? For the love of God?" Giles begged quietly, gesturing to the boy who was now arguing with Faith over something that sounded ridiculously like 'Hot Pockets'. "Quite frankly, he's driving me around the bend".

Spike grinned nastily. "Sure. Might need a snack to tide me over along the way".

* * *

"Spike's not here? What do you mean Spike's not here?"

"Buffy, I assure you, he won't be gone for long. We had a lead, and he was the best one to pursue it. And you can always reach him on his cell phone, I'm sure".

She swallowed heavily. It wasn't that she couldn't function without Spike, but… he was keeping her grounded. Keeping her from tearing her hair out in frustration and simply walking away from the whole mess.

Plus, she'd been looking forward to him kissing better the injuries Caleb had dealt her.

"Fine. Where's Faith? The girls?"

"Faith thought the girls needed a break. The tension has been mounting, and I thought, given everything I learned from our time, it might be wise to let them relax for an hour or two. They went to the Bronze".

Buffy grimaced, and left in search of them.

* * *

"Taking a break is one thing," Buffy yelled at Faith. "I get blowing off steam, but they were fighting. With police officers! And those girls are drunk. What were you thinking?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time".

"What if someone had gotten hurt?"

"They didn't!"

The argument devolved from there, until Faith snapped at her retreating back, "What about the Vineyard?"

"What?" Buffy whirled.

"How safe were they when you dragged them off to meet Caleb? How safe was Rona? Or Amanda? Or Molly? Or -"

She couldn't listen to anymore. She punched Faith in the jaw, sending her sprawling backwards, then turned and walked away.

* * *

Buffy heard the door open, heard Willow and Anya bringing Xander in, heard the others greeting them. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to go down there. Without Spike by her side, knowing he had her back, she didn't want to face the accusing stares of the others. Especially a one-eyed stare.

_Keep the greeting brief,_ she told herself as she descended the stairs. If she kept things businesslike, then she wouldn't have time to consider her injured friend, or how it was her fault.

Greetings over, she launched into the matter she wanted to discuss. "It's about the wine cellar". The whole room stiffened, but she continued on. "I know that night was difficult. For all of us. But I've figured out some things about the place, and I realize now what we have to do". She looked around, made sure she had their attention. "We're going back in".

For a moment, there was stunned silence, and Buffy spoke into it. "I know what you're thinking, scary place where good guys go boom, and I get it, I really do. But I had a little visit at the school today, from Caleb -"

Pandemonium ensued then, and after assuring the others she was fine, and no, the seal was not active, she finally got to her point. "We spend so much time worrying about the Hellmouth and the seal… why isn't Caleb guarding them?" When nobody answered, she explained her theory, how the bad guys always stayed near what they were protecting – ergo, whatever it was that was important to the First, it had to be at the Vineyard.

Faith immediately disagreed, and though Buffy countered her arguments as best she could, one by one each of the others joined Faith's side.

She stared at them, dumbfounded. "I don't understand. Seven years, I've kept us safe by doing exactly this. Making the hard decisions. Doing what nobody else thought we could. Walking into impossible situations and coming out the other side. The world's still spinning, isn't it? What makes you think I don't have what it takes _now_ of all times?"

"You're being reckless," Rona retorted. "I don't even know you and I can see it. You're so obsessed with beating Caleb that you're jumping into any plan without thinking".

"That's _not_ what I'm doing!" Buffy snapped.

It was Kennedy's turn. "Well, that's not it feels to us! People are dying – _we_ are dying. You led us into a trap".

Buffy glared at her. "And you knew that when we went in. Weren't you the one who kept saying you were ready? You insisted I bring you in on the action. It wasn't as glamorous as you expected it to be, and now it's my fault?"

"Buffy," Willow said soothingly. "We only want you to wait and think this through. You've been – under a lot of stress, and I know you feel pressure to act -".

She snorted. "Gee, I wonder why. 'Hey, Buffy, we need you to protect all these girls because no one else can. Hey, Buffy, you're the only one who can stop this apocalypse. Hey, Buffy, _why don't you move out of your home, give up your life for all these helpless girls_?'" she mimicked scathingly. "Nope, no pressure there".

She turned on Kennedy. "You girls are dying? Well, guess what – blame the fucking First, not me. You _all_ would be dead by now if it wasn't for me," she said angrily, repeating the words Spike had comforted her with. She faced the others, her friends. "All of you," she repeated, giving them pointed looks. "So don't be telling me what a goddamned shitty job I'm doing when not a one of you could take my place. I'm the Chosen One – and that means the One to lead".

Buffy thought that would be it, but she hadn't counted on Anya. There was a reason she had once been a vengeance demon, after all. Forgiveness was not her strong suit, and she blamed Buffy more than any for Xander's injury. The ex-demon was quick with her retort. "But that's not exactly true, is it. You're not the Chosen _One, _not the only Slayer here". She let that sink it for a moment, then reiterated her point. "Not the only one who can get the job done or make all the decisions".

Startled, Faith protested violently when all eyes turned to her. "Ka-what? Whoa, whoa, whoa, so not where this should go. I'm not the in-charge chick, I just think B here needs to chill out for a bit, take a siesta maybe, but I'm not the one you want".

"Maybe we need to have a vote," Kennedy said immediately. "To see who wants Faith to have a turn in charge".

"You're new here. You don't understand how things work. I know Faith took you out for fun and dancing, which wins way more points for cool than a grisly battlefield, but she doesn't have the experience I have". Buffy turned to Willow and Xander for support. "Tell them, guys".

But none was forthcoming. "Guys?" she repeated incredulously, not believing that they would actually turn on her.

Willow wouldn't meet her eyes. "I think… you just need to rest for a bit, Buffy".

Xander also kept his face averted. "We can all see it, Buffy, how much it's getting to you. Maybe it's not such a terrible idea. Letting Faith handle things, just until you're feeling a little less stressed".

"Seriously?" She'd worried she might have lost the gang's loyalty, but she hadn't really believed it. Not until now. "Guys. We have the chance to end this. I know I'm right about the wine cellar".

It was the wrong thing to say, causing even Giles turned against her. "Then you'll be on your own, Buffy. I cannot support you in this".

Buffy laughed mirthlessly. "We've been here before, the four of us," she told her friends. "And I'm reminded once again why there's no prophesy concerning the Slayer and her friends". They flinched, but didn't back down. "I can't stay here and watch Faith lead you into some disaster," she bit out.

"Then m-maybe you shouldn't stay here," Tara spoke up. Out of all the others, this one hurt the worst. Tara never spoke up, never chose to be confrontational. "I'm s-sorry, Buffy, but, they're right. You're not in a good place right n-now, and you need to take some time. T-take some time to cool off and think things over, at least for tonight. Maybe… m-maybe it'll be easier for you to do that… somewhere else".

Surveying the assembled group, her friends' guilty but unrelenting faces, Buffy gave up.

She turned and walked away from the whole damn mess.


	68. Chapter 68

**Author's Notes:**

I guess I still have it in me to shock and surprise you. :) I spent a fair amount of time thinking about that scene, and ended up feeling it was still necessary - although Buffy's POV doesn't show it, her friends (Willow, Xander, Tara/Dawn) really thought she was losing it and were trying to help her, if misguidedly. Anya, Kennedy and the rest were choosing Faith over Buffy, but the core gang really meant just a temporary break. At least that's how I saw it after watching and reading the canon version over and over. You probably guessed I chose Tara to replace Dawn as she would feel like as big of a betrayal.

So an idea occurred to me as to how Halfrek would collect on the debt Spike owes her. Look for it as a separate story once this is over. I can almost guarantee it won't be anything you imagined.

* * *

Despite the late hour of their return, or early hour depending on how you looked at it, Spike was surprised to see the house brightly lit, although the wavering quality of the light suggested candles rather than lightbulbs.

"We're ba-ack!" Andrew called out happily as they entered the living room, lit by candles as expected. The Potentials must have all gone to bed, only the Scooby gang and Faith still awake and planning. Minus one important member.

"Where's Buffy?" Spike asked, but Andrew spoke right over him.

"Hi everybody, I missed you a lot, even though we weren't gone that long". He noticed Xander and his eyepatch. "Oh, cool! Very Colonel Nick Fury. You're looking good".

"Seeing slightly less good, but thanks".

"Well, I think we had a very successful trip. Spike's car is… interesting… and we played some amusing road games, and, oh yeah, we've got some information. But do you know what – I really need to urinate". And with that, Andrew dashed off.

"He's a breath of fresh air, isn't he?" Spike said facetiously. "Good thing I don't need to breathe". Nobody smiled at his joke, not even Xander. Spike frowned, but went on. "So, I think we got a lead. Where's Buffy?"

"She's not here right now," Giles said quietly.

"At this time of night? Where is she?"

Willow glanced at him, then took a deep breath and spoke to his feet. "While you were gone, we all got together and talked about some things. And eventually, after some discussion, Buffy decided it would be best for her sake if she took a little time off. A breather, to regroup". She darted another look at his face and froze at his expression.

Spike let his contempt show clearly. "I see. Uh huh. You been practicing that little speech long?" He shook his head in disgust as the others shifted restlessly. "So, let me get this straight. Buffy – and this is _Buffy_ we're talking about – took some time off, right in the middle of an apocalypse. And this was her decision?"

"Well, we all decided," Xander said uneasily.

"Riiiiight," Spike said, drawing the word out scornfully. "You sad, sad, ungrateful traitors. Who do you think you are?"

"We're her friends," Willow answered, subdued. "We only wanted-".

"Oh, that's ballsy of you. You're her friend and you betray her like this".

"You don't understand," Giles tried, but Spike would have none of it.

"You're right, I bloody well don't. She's saved your lives, again and again. She's died for you. She puts you lot ahead of everything else in her own life. You asked her to give up the home we made, which she did with nary a complaint. And this is how you thank her? By kicking her out of her – _our _– home?" They fidgeted shamefacedly under his tirade, and their guilt made his rage burn hotter. "The girl has exceeded any possible expectations, done what no one else can, but she suffers one setback and-"

"Hey, bleach boy, you wanna take it down a notch or two? The time for giving speeches is over".

He glared at the woman that had stepped in front of him, letting her feel the brunt of his fury. "Faith," he spat savagely, twisting her name into a filthy word. "I knew I should have kicked you out, you cunt. You're just loving this, aren't you? Getting to be top dog for once, sticking it to Buffy, 'cause you know the only way you'll ever be as good as her is to steal what she's got".

"This had nothing to do with me, so save your lack of breath".

Spike stilled completely, his eyes flashing yellow, staring her down. Then he stepped forward, his fist shooting out in a blur of movement. As she blocked him instinctively, he said coldly, "You know, it's been a while since I've bagged me a Slayer". He was all fists now, whaling on her as she fought back, toppling furniture and sending the others scurrying. "I'm thinking maybe I ought to fix that".

He sent her flying across the room with one final blow. "Except you're not worthy of being called 'Slayer'," he finished scathingly.

Spike thought about having it out with the rest of the traitors, but even as his fists clenched to inflict further damage, he knew finding Buffy was far more important to him. Favoring the others with nothing more than a disgusted look, he turned and walked off.

* * *

"Well, there you are". Spike hadn't needed to use the tracking capabilities of their rings, hadn't needed to follow her scent. He'd known where he would find his wife.

"'M surprised this is still here," he said, toeing the bare mattress she was laying on. They'd left it behind when they'd moved to the new house, the springs already worn from their vigorous use of it.

"Almost makes it feel like it's still home," she said sadly, her eyes roaming the flat that remained as empty as the day they'd left it, only five months ago, then alighting on him. "We were happy here, weren't we? Just the two of us?"

"Were we together?" She nodded, the pale dawn light washing over her, illuminating her wistful look. "Then we were gloriously, deliriously happy. An' still are, pet. Long as 've got you, s'all I bloody well need. Nothing else matters".

"Sap," she said fondly as he flopped down next to her, the worn springs creaking in protest.

"So. I was there. I heard. That bitch".

She shook her head tiredly. "Don't. It wasn't Faith. It was… all of them".

"Don't see where 'all of them' get off kicking you out of _our-_"

Buffy spoke right over him. "And it's not like they were wrong. So, let's just forget about it".

"No, this'll change your tune". She'd rolled into the safety of his shoulder and he was stroking her hair. "You're right. You've been right since the beginning. Caleb _is_ protecting something from you, something that is yours. And I think you were spot on all the way; I think it's at the vineyard".

She didn't reply, and he lifted up to look at her. "So? You were right".

"I don't feel very right," she said finally. "They blame me for stuff, and honestly? I can't say they're wrong". Buffy lay limply in his arms, and Spike began to worry.

"Sweetheart? What is this? You're not a quitter".

"Watch me," she said quietly. "Why can't it be Faith's turn? Haven't I done enough? Let her save the world for once. And you and me – we can go on a vacation. I think we've earned it".

"A vacation?" he repeated, startled.

Her apathy fell away. "Sure. Hawai'i. I've always wanted to go to Hawai'i. I say, no time like the present. While civilization still exists. Hell, maybe the First will never even notice it, way out there by itself in the middle of the ocean. The apocalypse could pass us right by".

Spike cocked his head. "You'd leave them to it?"

Waving her hand dismissively, Buffy said, "Why not? That's what they want, anyhow. So what do you say?" Her eyes remained over-bright, frenzied and pleading.

Only a few years ago, Spike would have done it a heartbeat. Scoop his girl up and run for it, take her someplace ritzy, make her smile and let her troubles melt away? No contest. Sod the rest of them, they could fend for themselves. What did he care, as long as he and Buffy were happy?

Now, not so much. Not only did that little Jiminy Cricket of a conscience scream out that it was wrong, that he couldn't leave the others to their fates, his soul knew that it wasn't really what Buffy wanted. The pain might make her say such things, but it would destroy her to actually follow through.

Didn't mean they couldn't still run off. Just for a bit.

He stood up, pulled her with him. "Come with me, pet. I've got just the thing to perk you up".

* * *

They didn't talk much in the car, only rode in silence until they reached the next town up the road. The businesses they passed hummed with activity while people bustled to and fro, heading out to work. It was disconcerting after the emptiness of Sunnydale, and Buffy was startled to realize that the rest of the world still existed. The looming apocalypse hadn't affected humankind in general yet.

When they stopped for gas, a mother with a van full of beautiful, curly-haired children pulled up opposite to them. A toddler in a car seat flashed Buffy an incandescent grin, then turned and laughed at something a sibling said. Her heart caught in her throat. These innocent children had no idea what was waiting for them.

"Here, luv," Spike said, handing her a roll of cash. "Head on in and pay for the petrol, with you? And a bag of those flaming Doritos?" He beamed happily as she kissed him first, earning a cheerful squeal from the toddler in the van.

The bright fluorescent lights inside the store startled her. It had been barely hours since the power had failed, but again, she had forgotten that it was only in Sunnydale. Only at the mouth of Hell.

Spike was just hanging up his cell phone as she reemerged from the store, but he didn't speak to her, simply held open her door and ushered her in. They'd passed the next town before she spoke.

"Where are we going?"

He gave her a cocky grin. "Patience, my sweet. You'll see soon". The fire and excitement that had gripped her earlier floated away, and she drifted asleep, apathetic once more.

* * *

The sudden quiet of the engine cutting woke her, and she sat up, groggy and cranky. "What's going on?"

"We're here".

Buffy looked around. There were no clues as to what 'here' was. She scanned the parking lot more slowly, but the mostly empty lot and surrounding businesses didn't give up Spike's secrets. She turned and looked at him balefully. "This is my vacation?"

Spike chuckled. "Looks like we're here a bit early. Want to get out and walk around, or sit in here and snog while we wait?" He waggled his eyebrows and licked his lower lip temptingly, but Buffy was irritated with his lack of forthcoming-ness. She exited the car with a good hard slam of the door, making the whole frame reverberate.

"Hey now!" Spike chastised as he got out his side, but she only favored him with a glare and twisted her body, stretching. "Don't be like this, pet. You'll be feeling better soon, I promise". His lower lip crept out as she continued to glare at him, and she had to press her twitching lips more firmly together. She was bound and determined to not be easily cheered up. Not today.

Buffy changed her mind as a green Jeep pulled into the parking lot, rolling up next to Spike's DeSoto. With a sidelong smile of gratitude, she mouthed, "I love you," and scurried to open the Jeep's door.

"Mom! Dawnie!" The pair of women in the Jeep fell out into Buffy's arms, laughing and hugging and kissing.

"Spike said you were feeling a little blue," Dawn explained, "since you couldn't get away and we hadn't been down to Sunnydale since your birthday".

"Which I will never forgive myself for letting so much time pass by," her mom apologized. "We dropped everything so we could meet you halfway". She frowned worriedly. "Spike mentioned that we were better off not traveling all the way to Sunnydale. Is everything okay there?"

Buffy smiled reassuringly, her eyes still wet with tears. "Oh, just the usual Hellmouthy goodness. Nothing we won't handle," she said, her gaze locked on Spike's self-satisfied face. And as she said the words, she believed them. The vampire deserved to be proud of himself, he _had_ known exactly how to perk her up, boost her self-assurance.

Joyce's reply didn't hurt either. "Of course you will honey, I have every confidence you'll kick this First's ass like you always do".

If she hadn't been so busy laughing at hearing her mother cuss, she would have reminded her the First had no ass to kick, but no matter. Her family's cheerful, excited, loving faces did more to buoy her than anything else could have.

Dawn looked around, then spotted something that made her squeal. "Oooh! I love that store!" She winked at Buffy. "Wasn't it nice of Spike to bring us here to go shopping?"

He spluttered, his hands held up in protest, but Buffy and Dawn each grabbed one arm and dragged him forward determinedly, happily chattering about the purchases they would make, Joyce trailing them serenely.

* * *

"Silly vampire," Buffy chortled affectionately as Spike complained loudly and vociferously over having been co-opted into holding the three women's bags during the hours-long shopping spree. "You shouldn't have planned to meet near stores if you knew what was good for you". He grumbled under his breath, but Buffy could see he was in reality loving every second of it.

"Besides, you know we'll reward you for it later by making all your fantasies come true," Dawn said blithely. Spike turned to her in shock, eyes wide with discomfort. She scowled at him. "Ewww. Gutter-mind. I meant, I saw a Friday's a couple blocks over. They have those onion things you like so much _and_ spicy wings. Your kind of heaven".

"Oh. Right. Of course, Little Bit". She wrinkled her nose at him as he let out a sigh of relief. "Don't think I want her knowing what my fantasies involve," he whispered in Buffy's ear.

"Think you're too late for that," she reminded him. "Miss Peanut Butter Fingers knows way more than she should already".

At Friday's, surrounded by the chatter of oblivious people enjoying their lunches and the company of her mom and sister, Buffy was able to fully put aside the looming danger and painful memories they'd fled earlier in the day. She spent a happy afternoon, just a young woman and her husband, enjoying a day out with the family.

As dinnertime approached, reality crept in again. The Summers women gathered Buffy and Spike up, squeezing them and promising to see them soon. After telling her mom goodbye, Buffy held her arms out to Dawn.

"Don't," her younger sister said, forestalling Buffy's tearful farewell. "Anything you say is gonna sound like… goodbye for good". With one final squeeze, she hurried around to the passenger side of the Jeep and climbed in, the four of them waving quietly as the Jeep rolled away.

"How is it you always know what I need?" Buffy asked Spike as she leaned back into his solid chest, her voice subdued, filled with both unshed tears and contentment.

"'Cause I know you, don't I, luv?" he replied softly. "I vowed. To make you happy. And I can't do that if I don't know you better than I know myself".

She turned in his arms, kissing him softly, and laid her head on his shoulder. "Guess we should go back now".

"Not yet. Got something else to do first".

Tilting her head back, Buffy raised an eyebrow. "But I have my brand-spanking new evil-fighting outfits in the car and ready to be put to use".

"Trust me, sweetheart. The apocalypse will wait a few hours yet".

When Spike pulled up to the fancy hotel and checked them in, leading her to the top-floor suite, she shook her head bemusedly. "I don't think…"

"We won't stay too long. Just – a few hours on our own. A little us time, a little sleep, then we'll head back, ready to claim what's yours, alright?"

She peeked into the bedroom, her lips curving in delight. "Alright".

* * *

The car chugged to a stop near the vineyard. "You sure?" Spike repeated.

"Yeah, baby. It's one of those things. I have to do it on my own. Sacred quest for a sacred object kinda thing". Buffy leaned in for a kiss. "Wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for you, you know that. You're my strength".

"Well, your strength is gonna wait right here for you. 'N come running if I hear excessive screaming".

"Only one you're gonna hear screaming is the preacher-man".

Spike scowled. "Why should you get all the fun?"

Buffy laughed and took off at a light run, easily dispatching the lone Bringer in her way. From the top of the stairs, she looked down at Caleb. "Hey. I hear you've got something of mine".

* * *

Spike drummed his fingers anxiously on the wheel, smoking furiously. He wasn't made for waiting, but he knew Buffy was right. This was something she had to do for herself. And would. He knew his girl.

She had a slight tendency to win.

He'd reached the last fag in the pack when she came tearing out, carrying _something_ lethal looking, victorious and high on her success.

"Look at that," he said admiringly. "You found the holy grail, or the holy hand grenade, or whatever the hell that is".

"I'm thinking scythe," Buffy grinned at him. "But, let's save the naming ceremony for later. The First – it was taunting me. Said Faith and the girls were in trouble. We need to hurry and find them".

Spike didn't even question her. No matter what she'd said the day before about leaving them to it, he knew she hadn't meant it, knew she couldn't abandon them to their fate. She didn't hold grudges, his girl, and it was a good thing for his sake, wasn't it?

Not that _he _had to forgive them. He had no problem holding enough of a grudge for both of them.

He spun the car out of the yard, tires squealing and gravel flying, and headed back to town, Buffy caressing her shiny red weapon with a look of reverence.

"You keep stroking it like that, you're going to make me jealous, kitten".

She laughed. "I'm sorry. It's just – power. I can feel it. And it's _mine_. I King Arthured it right out of a stone". Holding it aloft for him to admire, she asked, "You like?"

"Pointy and wooden is not the look I want to get to know better, but I can see the appeal it would have for a girl like you". He focused on the road once more, flying down the empty streets. "What's the plan, pet?"

"We need to find out where Faith is". She flipped open her cell phone, but there was no longer any service. Flinging it to the floor with a grunt of frustration, Buffy grimly stared straight ahead through the windshield.

"Guess there's only one option. Let's go home".


	69. Chapter 69

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for the reviews! I almost don't want to post the next chapters, because then it will be over...

* * *

"Back in the bosom and all forgiven then?" They sat together on the back steps as dusk fell, the quiet sounds of injured, moaning girls leaking through the back door.

Buffy shrugged. "Guess so. I mean, we don't have time for vendettas, right? Not Robin's, not Faith's, not Anya's… not mine". She leaned into him. "I wish I could say 'told you so' to them, but… it could have just as easily been me. It _was_ me, a few days ago. All that matters is we lost more girls today. We're down more fighters. Again. I know it's cold and unfeeling, but…"

"There are always casualties in war".

"Casualties. It sounds so… casual. Those are girls that I got killed, and I care more about the empty spaces in the lineup right now than the fact that they… oh God".

"Know that's not how you really feel about it, luv, know that's not who you really are". She waved her hand depreciatingly and he grabbed it, intent. "I know you, wife of mine, better than I know myself. We established that already, yeah? So let me tell you who you are. I've seen your strength and your kindness. I've seen how you try despite all odds, never give up, always do what's right. You're a hell of a woman, Buffy, and I'm beyond proud you deign to share your life with me".

She exhaled shakily, and he bumped her shoulder with his, then continued. "The thing is, no matter what the others said, you're still their leader, the one who has to make the hard choices. An' right now, that means being hard, not letting emotion into it. S'the only way to keep from racking up the… casualties".

"I don't like it".

"S'not for long, pet. Just until this is over. Which, based on how things are progressing? Soon".

Buffy was silent for a long while. Finally, she said, "I don't think that makes me feel any better".

Trailing his hand up her thigh, he smirked, "That's what last night was about".

"Pig".

"Ah. Haven't heard that one in awhile".

"We're dredging up the classics tonight. I'm feeling nostalgic".

"Well, in that case… Bitch".

"Thank you. Not. Asshole".

Spike let her have the last word, and they sat quietly together, watching the stars appear.

There was a large clattering inside and the peaceful mood was broken. "So, sounded like you had another quest to complete tonight. One a day not enough for the Watcher?"

"I gotta find out what this weapon thingy is, why I have it. Something about a tomb on unconsecrated ground. It's our only lead so far. And Caleb _really _didn't want me to have the scythe, so… I'm thinking, way important".

"Want company?"

Buffy considered, then shook her head. "Nah, I got it. You've barely had any sleep the last few days. Better go catch up. I need you ready".

He looked at her, his face intent, his eyes serious. "Know you're hell bent on reclaiming your lost mojo, pet, but… you keep running off into danger on your own, I'm not going to be getting any sleep. 'Sides, you'll muck up my mission in life".

She frowned, confused and surprised. "Your mission? Is to kick demon ass? Isn't it?"

"No, Buffy. That's part of it, but… I decided, after we moved back to Sunnydale, that it was more than just fighting evil. I have a bigger purpose... I want to make sure you live long past that expiration date. Experience… life. Every stage of it. And… know I sound like a right poofter, but I need to be with you in this war, every step of the way. Make sure I fulfill my goal". She gazed at him adoringly and he had to lighten the mood, before he took her inside and showed her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. "'Sides, Faith has our bed. No place for me to sleep anyhow".

"Oh, baby. God… how'd I get so lucky?" She cuddled into his arms. "I promise you, I'll be fine. This is fact-finding only. Caleb didn't want anywhere near my sparkly new toy, and I'll have that with me so… You really need to sleep, Spike. Take Andrew's bed". She laughed. "Just make sure he knows he's kicked out of it. I wouldn't put it past him to try to snuggle up to you".

"The boy wouldn't dare".

"I don't know… he's crushing on you, no question about it". She leaned in for a kiss. "Get some sleep, and I'll be back, all cuddly and lovey and safe and sound before you know it".

* * *

He was all set to slip off after her when Xander came out, making to catch Spike by the arm and then stopping himself. "Look, I know you want to initiate a major smackdown on me, and I don't blame you. But you never let us explain".

"Don't want you to explain," Spike growled. "Want you to sod the hell off".

Xander faced him down, his one good eye unflinching, and the vampire had to admire his courage. "I know we should have trusted her. She was right about Caleb, we were wrong. But you didn't see her that night. Buffy was way off-the-charts freaking out, and she was trying to force herself to keep on trucking the way she always does. I don't know about the rest of them, but me? All I wanted was her to step back and take a breather before she went rushing off and got herself hurt".

"You mean before she got any of you lot hurt". Spike was carrying a big enough grudge for himself and the Slayer.

"There's that too. And how do you think she would have dealt if she had gotten more people hurt? She can't even bear to look at me. Maybe we went about it wrong, but I'm standing by what happened. If Buffy had gone back to the vineyard that night, it wouldn't have ended good. She regrouped and came out the other side in one piece, which is all I wanted".

"Better off than Faith and her band of Merry Men, eh?" Spike said snidely. "That was just as much of a cock-up".

Xander shrugged. "I'm trying to make things right here. Believe it or not, I don't hold this against her," he pointed to his covered eye. "It wasn't some kind of get-back-at-Buffy deal, no matter how it came across".

When Spike only glowered at him, he said, "I love her. You gotta know that by now. I've followed Buffy into the fires of hell and back, and I will again".

Spike sniffed, then popped Xander across the jaw with just enough force to sting, mindful of his injuries despite the lingering desire to the feel the boy's remaining eye squelch beneath his thumb. "Yeah, okay. You apologize to _her_ too and we'll be good". Then he spun on his heel and left.

* * *

Buffy shook off the hit, leaping back to her feet. She and Caleb traded blows, stepping around the body of the dead guardian. As Caleb gained the upper hand, Buffy began to worry. He was much stronger than the last time she'd faced him. And definitely not at all afraid of the scythe.

So unafraid that he simply reached forward and ripped it from her hands. "I gave you ample warning. I told you not to interfere. And you chose not to heed. But you know what?" He knocked her down with a hard left, raised the scythe over her sprawled body. "I was kinda hoping it would go this way".

She tensed herself to roll out of the way, then heard, "Hey!" Caleb turned to confront the speaker and suddenly went flying backwards, away from her. Looking up she saw Angel over her, holding out a hand, smiling at her in that way of his. "I never was much for preachers".

She reached out and grasped his hand. "Angel," she said in surprise.

"You look good".

"You look timely. And good".

He was still holding her hand, still smiling at her. "Heard maybe you needed a hand," he said as Caleb stirred. She shook her head as the large vampire turned back to the downed man, squeezing Angel's hand to stop him. "Ah. This is one of those things you have to finish yourself?" he asked.

"Really kinda is". And she turned to face the preacher once more. The remainder of the battle was short and brutal, ending with Caleb laying gutted on the floor.

"See?" she said unsteadily. "Under control".

Angel hurried to her side, holding her up. "At least tell me you're glad to see me". She looked into his anxious face and remembered what Faith had said. About her still being his one and only.

How was that even possible? The last time she'd seen Angel, they'd come to blows over Faith. The last time she'd talked to him, it had been to tell him that she and a freshly re-ensouled Spike were getting married. And here Angel was, still gazing at her the way he had all those years ago.

Her heart went out to him. Leaning up on her toes, she kissed him on the cheek. "Yeah. I'm happy to see you. But… what are you doing here?"

"Not saving the damsel in distress, that's for sure".

"You know me. Not big with the damselling".

"Got your share of the distress though?"

"You heard".

He walked to the corner and retrieved a folder. "I got coverage on the whole thing. Very gripping. Needs a third act".

"You _have_ to leave LA".

"It's the First, right? The First Evil? The power that tried to convince me to kill myself?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "It's gotten a little more ambitious since then. It's raising an army".

Angel held out the folder. "Well, it failed once, and I'm here to tell you that-". His words were cut off as a beam came out of nowhere, smashing into his head and sending him across the room.

Buffy looked blankly behind him to see Caleb standing there, black blood dripping from every orifice on his face. When he spoke, he sounded otherworldly.

"You ready to finish this, bitch?"

He rushed her, stronger than ever, and Buffy felt the power of his blows rattling her body as she blocked him with the scythe. Again, the fight was short but brutal.

"Stupid girl," he taunted. "You'll never stop me. You don't have the ba-"

"Who does nowadays?" she punned, positioning the scythe right beneath his groin and ripping upwards with a violent jerk.

_Ewww_.

As Caleb fell to the floor – and fell to the floor again – Angel leapt up, spinning furiously. "Okay, now I'm pissed. Where is he?"

* * *

Spike stood in the shadows, watching, waiting. Wondering if he should interrupt the cozy scene.

Fine, it wasn't that cozy. She'd given the oversized git a brief kiss on the cheek, no more than she would do to Xander. It was Spike's jealousy, his insecurity coming to the fore that made him feel as though they were standing a little too close. Angelus had that effect on him, even after all these years.

He felt like a right tosser hiding from his wife and debated stepping forward, but couldn't think of what he would say.

_'Lo darling, just popped round since I didn't believe you could actually handle this on your own. _

_'Lo Buffy, I wanted to be your knight in shining armor, but I see Angelus here beat me to the punch._

_Oi! Angelus! Get your filthy mitts of my wife!_

All unlikely to come off smoothly.

As Angel described the powers of the gaudy amulet, its requirement to be worn by a champion, and then offered himself – _shoulder to shoulder, I'm yours_ –Spike moved forward, ready to challenge the senior vampire. It was his place to be by Buffy's side, his right. Spike paused mid-swagger, surprised and gratified as Buffy declined Angel's offer, and waited to hear her reasons why.

"Because Angel. I already have my champion".

"Spike," he uttered scornfully.

"Yes. Spike. My husband. He… he's a hero, Angel, and he's the one I want by my side". Spike's heart swelled.

Angel shook his head ruefully. "I just don't see how. This is _Spike_ we're talking about. The last time I saw the moron, he was torturing me. Threatening to rape you. How the hell did that idiot worm his way into your heart?"

Her face softened. "By changing, Angel. He proved himself, over and over. Fought to be more than just a demon. You know he's different. You know he has a soul".

"Everyone's got a soul now," he muttered petulantly. "I started it, you know. The whole having a soul… before it was all the cool new thing".

Buffy snorted. "Oh my God. Are you twelve?"

"I got replaced by Captain Peroxide. It doesn't bring out the champion in me".

Buffy laid her hand on the side of his face, and Spike glowered from the shadows as Angel leaned into it. "I'm sorry. Sorry it didn't work out for us, sorry I don't feel the same way anymore. Sorry I'm not the same girl that fell in love with you so many years ago. I'll always love you, Angel, but… I _love_ Spike. More than… Everything has changed for me, in ways I never imagined, and I can't bring myself to regret it. I'm happy. Really, really happy. I just wish you could be too".

Spike melted away, feeling generous. Let Angel have her attention for a moment. He'd be waiting at home for his loving wife. Who chose _him_.

As he strode off, head held high, he heard Buffy say hastily, "Or, well, I guess I don't want you to be too happy…"

* * *

"You're not in bed". Buffy scowled at Spike sitting on the front step, waiting for her.

"You are a bossy little thing, aren't you. So? Tall, Dark and Forehead get off alright?"

She shook her head disbelievingly. "I thought we were past the stalker routine".

"Don't need to stalk," he countered. "The poor creature leaves a miasma of broodiness behind him. It's clinging to you".

Wrinkling her nose, Buffy said, "Ewww. The smelling thing is gross, you know". She sniffed her arm, then asked, "You can really smell Angel?"

Spike smiled cheekily. "Nah, I used my enhanced vampire eyeballs to see him get beamed in the head by Caleb. Made my day, it did".

"So you were stalking. Jerk. Why didn't you show yourself?"

"I was only checking to see if you needed me, luv. Don't be fussed. Saw you had everything under control, knew you could handle Mr. Broodypants without my help". He gave her a crooked smile. "Heard I was the one you wanted. Didn't need to rub the poor wanker's face in it with my charming presence".

"Wow. How thoughtful of you," she snarked, then grinned. "Didja see me slice, dice, and make julienne Preacher?"

"That's my girl". He held his hand out. "Think I get a shiny new present too". She scrunched her brow in puzzlement, and he added. "Pretty necklace? Meant for a champion?"

"Oh". Smiling softly, Buffy reached in her pocket and pulled it out. "He said it was dangerous. Are you sure?"

He wrapped his hand around hers, clasping the amulet between them. "Been called a lot of things in my day, pet. But when you called me your champion… comes only second to being called your husband in my mind".

"Oh yeah? Better than lover? Best friend? Soul mate?"

Spike had moved her onto his lap and was kissing her fiercely. "Well, see, those all are included under 'husband'. If it's done right, of course".

"Which you definitely do," she said through their locked lips. "Faith still in our room?" she asked desperately, pressing into him needily.

He stood, Buffy's legs wrapped around his waist. "'M more than willing to kick her out".

Sighing, she slid down him, taking his hand. "We'll have to figure something else out. Meantime – we should probably go over all this info Angel brought". She looked up at him slyly. "We can get Giles started on the research and then sneak off".

Opening the front door and heading for the war room, Buffy was surprised to see Faith already up – pale and obviously still in pain, but up. Spike looked at her, then turned and cocked his eyebrow at Buffy, nodding subtly up the stairs with a suggestive leer.

"Patience," she mouthed at him, then faced the others.

"Did you find out anything about the scythe?" Willow asked.

"That and a whole lot more".

* * *

Spike softly shut the door to their room as Buffy finished smoothing out the clean sheets.

"Where were we?" he asked predatorily, prowling towards her.

"You were telling me why-"

"Being Buffy's husband is what I like best?" he finished. "Well, see, this perfect little body of yours is the first reason. It's hard and unyielding on the battlefield, but I can make you sweet and soft in my arms". His hands ran over her as he spoke, caressing, teasing, loving, slowly unveiling her burning skin to his eyes. "Only I get to touch you, feel you melt against me, hear your delicious little moans…"

Her breath came in ragged bursts. "Only I get to do this," he murmured against her bared breast, taking the nipple into his mouth and rolling it against his tongue. "Or this". His mouth moved lower, his tongue dipping into her navel, then further still as he knelt and nudged her legs apart with his hands. "Only I know how you taste," he breathed against her womanhood, sliding his arms under her legs to support her weight as he lifted her to ride high against his body, carrying her to the bed while his tongue glided along her folds and her hands buried themselves in his hair.

Spike lowered Buffy backwards onto the bed in a controlled fall, his head following her down, mouth claiming its prize. As she gave a strangled gasp, he watched her expressions with hooded eyes. "Only I get to see how you look when you come on my tongue," he said gutturally, "only I get to make you scream".

And then he did, made her scream while slim fingers and agile mouth plundered her, sending her over the edge as he muffled the noises she made with his other hand.

Divesting himself of his clothes, he joined her on the bed, hands smoothing her hair as she stared up at him with languid eyes. "So there's that. Lover. A very important part of being your husband. But not as important as the next part". He kissed her tenderly, and added, "Best friend".

She bit her lip, eyes growing softer, more limpid than he'd thought possible. Spike was lost in their depths. "You are, Buffy. Everything I do, I want to share it with you. Everything you need, I want to be it for you. You – you know me. Like nobody else. And even so, you accept me, love me, want me. I can tell you anything, trust you with everything. There's no one else I want by my side".

"Because you're my soul mate," she whispered, her voice husky and raw. "You were meant for me, made for me. It's why you had to be turned, so you could wait for me".

"Why I had to go through so many years of hell. So I could find my way to your side".

Buffy reached up and grasped his face, pulling him down to her mouth, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss he'd ever been granted. "You've convinced me. From here on out, you'll be known throughout the land as Buffy's Husband".

The pad of his thumb traced her lip. "Which is why I am also Buffy's Champion. You deserve no less".

"My husband…"

Their mouths melded once more, their bodies following suit, twining together until they fell asleep, sated and oblivious.

* * *

Buffy woke later, Spike spooned tightly behind her, his lips resting over the already healing bite mark on her neck. She stroked the arm he'd thrown over her, keeping her close, and considered their plight.

The specter of the First marched through her thoughts, erasing her contentment, and she eased out of his embrace. As she stood, pulling on a robe, the First appeared to her literally. Caleb emerged from the darkness and spoke, startling her from her contemplation of the bright moon framed by their bedroom window.

"Pretty, ain't it?

"You're not him".

"No, you killed him right and proper". The First continued on, taunting her, and Buffy had to wonder why it was appearing directly to her now when it had ignored her for so long.

It morphed into Buffy herself, reminding her of her Slayer destiny. "In every generation, a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will have the strength and skill to fight the… well, there's that word again. What you are. How you'll die. Alone".

Mind racing, Buffy realized why the First was here, now. It was afraid. Afraid of her. Because she wasn't… alone.

"Well where's your snappy comeback?"

"You're right," she replied. She had been one girl in all the world. But that had changed with Kendra, and then Faith. And if there could be two girls in all the world…

"Hmm. Not your best," her evil twin said, but Buffy barely noticed, a plan taking shape as the impact of the idea that had formed in her mind took hold.

"I'm drowning in footwear!" Spike called out in his sleep, then woke startled. "Weird dream". She looked past him, unseeing, until he asked, "Buffy? Is something wrong?"

She frowned in thought, then her lips curved upwards. "No. Yes. I just realized something. Something that really never occurred to me before". He sat up, head cocked, watching her softly triumphant visage.

"We're gonna win!"


	70. Chapter 70

**Author's Notes: **The Battle!

Three more chapters after this. Thank you for sticking with me this far! You guys rock!

* * *

Today was the day. The final battle. For the Hellmouth, maybe for the world. As Spike dressed and draped the amulet about his neck, he suspected maybe even for himself. He knew Buffy was treating it as though it was her last stand, knew she'd throw herself into this battle completely so that other girls wouldn't have to die in her place. But that was his mission, wasn't it? To make sure it wasn't her last fight. To make sure it never would be.

If the morning went as planned, she'd never have to sacrifice herself again. There'd be a whole army of girls to face evil and save the world, a whole army of Slayers to back her up. Her expiration date would be obsolete.

It was Spike's objective to ensure she made it past this morning. Buffy might be the strongest Slayer the world had ever seen thanks to her botched resurrection, but he was the one who was invulnerable. It was on his shoulders to keep her safe.

On his shoulders to be her Champion, to bear the volatile and potentially lethal amulet.

Buffy pulled her boots on and waited for him to finish with his, red scythe gripped tightly. "Ready husband?"

He took her free hand. "Yeah, luv".

Even though they'd spent the majority of the day yesterday strategizing with the gang, last night had been devoted to each other. They'd barely slept, instead spending what they knew could be their final night together bringing each other to new heights.

Despite all that, the soft touch of his wife's small hand in his had Spike aching to turn around and take her back to their bed.

He drew in a fortifying breath.

It was time to go be a hero.

* * *

"Welcome to Sunnydale High. There's no running in the halls, no yelling, and no gum. Apart from that we have only one rule. If they move, kill 'em".

"Potentials are in the basement. Follow Faith and Spike".

"If you have to go to the bathroom, it's on the left. If you don't have to go to the bathroom, picture what you are about to face. Better to go now".

Groups of people peeled off, until only the original Scoobies remained.

Spike and Faith led the Potentials to the basement, minus the two that were staying upstairs to aid the others. The rest remained to guard against any Turok Han that escaped the basement. Tara headed to the Principal's office to commence set-up for Willow's spell, Vi tagging along with the scythe, ready to run it to the basement as soon as Willow was done with it.

Kennedy had offered to be the one, but Tara had firmly declined, privately admitting to Buffy that she didn't like how the brash young woman looked at her lover. Buffy had more than understood.

The four that remained stood together, Giles', Xander's and Willow's faces displaying identical emotions to the ones Buffy felt coursing through her. Her friends, her allies since the beginning. The ones who always, despite the obstacles faced, pulled through and helped her, saved her, had her back.

Her family.

"So. What do you guys want to do tomorrow?" Buffy inquired nonchalantly.

Willow smiled. "Nothing strenuous…"

"Mini-golf is always the first thing that comes to mind," Xander said flippantly.

"Well, I think we can do better than that," Giles put in.

"I'm pretty much thinking about shopping. As usual…" The lighthearted banter continued, though Buffy's heart clenched despite her easy manner. The pain of their rejection, only days ago, was forgotten in the intensity of her love for these people.

She was saying goodbye.

They walked inexorably forward to meet their fate, Giles watching them go. "The earth is _definitely_ doomed," he muttered as the talk of shopping didn't abate. Buffy turned to give him one last significant look, their eyes meeting and saying what words could not.

_You are like a father to me._

_I am proud to call you my daughter._

Willow was next, with a casual goodbye that belied the love the two women felt for each other.

_You're my best friend. I'll always love you._

_You too._

Xander was last, hands clasping briefly before hurrying to join his wife.

_You've always been there for me, always had my back. You're so brave._

_Only because you inspire me to be so._

Buffy tramped on to the basement, alone as she was predestined to be, but only for a short while.

* * *

Spike was waiting for her just outside the chamber. Buffy stretched up and kissed him, briefly but tenderly.

"I love you, husband". She hadn't called him anything else for the past day, not since he'd told her just what the title meant to him.

"I love you too, wife". He smiled and tipped his head at the waiting crowd. "Time to go to work, luv".

Buffy looked him in the eyes.

_You are my strength._

_And you mine._

Shoulders thrown back, she headed for the gates of Hell.

* * *

Faith was waiting, Andrew's knife in hand. Without a word Buffy took it, then sliced her hand open, holding it so the flowing blood dripped onto the seal. She silently handed it to Faith, who did the same and then passed it on.

"Pucker up, ladies. We're going to Hell".

* * *

They'd all climbed down through the seal, but only Buffy seemed to be looking out into Hell itself.

"Not to be a buzzkill, luv, but my fabulous accessory isn't exactly tingling with power".

She wasn't sure what he'd said, but it didn't matter. There was only one thing she _could_ say.

"I'm not worried".

It was a lie, of course. She was worried – terrified, frightened, petrified, worried sick. Possibly literally. Thank goodness there was nothing in her stomach, otherwise it would be coating her shoes right about now.

"I'm getting zero juice here. And I look like Elizabeth Taylor".

"Cheer up Liz," Faith quipped. "Willow's big spell doesn't work, won't matter _what_ you wear".

What Buffy wanted to say was something clever, something along the lines of how the necklace only improved his outdated and overused wardrobe choices, but what came out was, "I'm not worried".

Silence fell as the rest of their tiny and suddenly overwhelmingly pathetic army took in what was waiting below. In the silence, they all heard Buffy's panicked, "I'm… not… worried".

Spike moved closer, taking her hand as the girls around her whispered in dismay.

"I'm not worried!" she insisted to them. "As long as Willow can work the spell…" Too late. "Before they see us…"

* * *

Thousands. Tens, maybe hundreds of thousands. Spike liked a good brawl as much as the next demon. But he also liked having the odds stacked in his favor. Especially when he was surrounded by dozens of soon to be torn-to-shreds-corpses. The wannabe Slayers stood no chance.

He gripped his wife's hand tighter, about to suggest a strategic retreat when – power. He felt it flowing around, through him, captivating the young girls and turning them into more. Turning them into – well. Significant threats to his health. Vampire, after all. His skin itched and his nerves screamed, overwhelmed by so much power surrounding him. This was not the same as the now-soothing buzz he felt near Buffy.

_Focus, mate_.

The Turok Han were upon them, and he had no more time to be agitated by the presence of so many Slayers.

A quick estimation left him only a little less despairing than before. Even if each of the newly powerful girls could take out an Ubervamp or five, even if Faith handled dozens, and Buffy dozens more than that… Even if Spike took on a hundred…

That left, oh… Say, ninety-nine thousand more. Give or take a few.

_Bollocks_.

He kept himself by Buffy's side, fighting in tandem with her, keeping her safe while letting her do her thing.

She didn't like it. "Protect the others," she hissed fiercely. "They need it more". A cursory glance told him she was right. He wavered, torn. His heart urged him to ignore her wishes.

His soul made him move away from her side, to where help was most needed.

Spike kept Buffy in his line of vision. She was a sight to see – kicking, punching, twirling, dealing death and destruction. They all were, all the Slayers that had been mere girls minutes ago, but Buffy outshone them all. She was down and dirty, in the thick of it. Savage, and still the most beautiful, graceful creature he had ever seen.

He was going to die for her today.

It wasn't a conscious choice, but something he knew, deep in his bones. To make sure that Buffy lived, to make sure the world was saved, he would have to die. Spike didn't mind at all; in fact, the knowledge filled him with pride and a sense of well-being. Today he would redeem himself. Today, he really would be a Champion.

* * *

He was always in the corner of her eye, always on the edge of her awareness. Buffy had sent him away, to help the others, but she was connected to Spike. She knew exactly where he was at every moment.

If she'd had any breath to spare, he would have stolen it away with his lethal magnificence, with the ferocity of his movements. She'd fought beside him plenty of times, but today he was more. Incomparable, like a legend of old.

A Champion.

"Buffy! Catch!" She turned just as Vi tossed her the scythe, catching the weapon and swinging it out in a smooth arc, decapitating two vamps without effort.

The scythe hummed in her hands, becoming one with her, and she pressed forward, hewing and slashing and staking effortlessly. She smiled ferally. A Slayer could get used to this.

All around her, Slayers fought. It was heady – not the Chosen One, or even the Chosen Two, but simply – the Chosen. Willow and Tara had redefined the lore of the Slayer.

Faith joined her, fighting side-by-side. Buffy spun, staked, slashed, Slayed.

But no matter how many she killed, more took their place. It wasn't enough.

Without warning, across the ledge, Spike fell to his knees. Buffy turned, distracted, worried. He had the ring, why-?

And then – pain. Slashing, stabbing, hot sharp edges running her though, blood pouring out. She fell, facedown.

* * *

Spike writhed on his knees, his arms clutched around his middle in searing agony.

Pain like this was something he'd forgotten how to feel. Shouldn't feel, either. The Gem of Amarra…

Buffy's voice rang in his memory. _The ring does nothing for you when it comes to magic_.

Magic. Of course. And pain like this could only mean one thing. The amulet – it was going to kill him. So this was how it would happen. Spike only hoped the nasty little trinket would do its job first, whatever that might be.

* * *

The First thought it had won. "You pulled a nice trick. Hey, you came pretty close to smacking me down! What more do you want?"

Furious, she narrowed her eyes. "I want you… to get out of my _face_!" Buffy pulled herself up, because… Because she was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, damn it. And she didn't give up, didn't lose - not with her friends, her allies, her husband fighting by her side.

She kicked evil ass, even when it had no ass to kick.

Rona saw, smiled, and tossed her the scythe. One sweep of Buffy's arm and the Turok Han that had been on her were gone, over the edge.

Drawing energy from the weapon in her hands, Buffy spun, finding Spike once more.

_There_.

Under the seal's opening. She gaped as he froze, head thrown back, a beam of intense light shooting skyward.

"Spike!" She rushed to his side and was forced to dive out of the way as a blast of sunlight poured forth from his chest. It was beautiful. Blinding. And deadly. She felt rather than saw the destructive – cleansing – power of the amulet. In an instant, the nagging feeling at the back of her neck that had been so intense, surrounded as she was by legions of Ubervamps, was gone, only the distinct tingle that was Spike's signature remaining.

She pushed forward once more, on uneven footing as the cavern rumbled apart around her, Faith's cries of "Everybody out!" ringing in her ears. Buffy ignored it. Let Faith take charge now. All that mattered was her husband.

Spike was watching her, waiting for her, pure radiant light still pinning him in place. The look of wonder and awe on his face eased her worries. He had to be okay, right?

"I can feel it, Buffy".

"What?" she asked, her whole world narrowing to this man she loved.

"My soul. It's really there," he replied, amazed. And – god, was he in pain? He couldn't be, could he? "Kinda stings".

Her eyes locked with his. His soul. He felt it. A soul strong enough, pure enough to destroy an entire army of evil.

He was her Champion.

"Spike… let's go. It's over, done".

His smile was beatific. "No, Buffy. Go on. I'll catch up".

She wasn't going to leave him here. He might be protected by the Gem of Amarra, but … what if it wasn't sufficient? "You've done enough. You can still-"

"You beat them back. It's for me to do the cleanup". The cavern shook harder, rocks tumbling down around them, the Hellmouth imploding. Faith called out to her, but she ignored it.

"No. No. I will not leave you here. I love you, husband".

Spike's face glowed. "Got more than one fabulous accessory. My pretty little ring will keep me safe". Buffy had to dodge a rock. "But it won't protect _your_ noggin, wife. I want you out of here. I will find you after".

More rocks came tumbling down, the cavern collapsing. Eyes shining with love and devotion, Spike insisted, "Gotta move, lamb. I think it's fair to say school's out for the bloody summer".

"Spike…"

"I mean it. I gotta do this".

He did. She could see it in his eyes. See it in his _soul_.

* * *

The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Pure sunlight coursing through a vamp?

Ow.

And yet… he felt it, but he didn't. Felt every single photon with his body. Didn't feel anything but love with his soul. And his soul was in charge.

Buffy… God, Buffy. She was there, by his side, looking at him with such love, such admiration, his heart was equally seared.

They'd done it. _He'd_ done it – saved the world, given his love a fresh new life. If only she would leave.

The pain was more intense now. He wouldn't last much longer. He was going to burn away to ashes. It was the only way this could end. Spike didn't know how he knew it, but he knew it with such certainty he didn't even attempt to remove the amulet. For them to win – completely win – he had to see this through to the dusty end. It was the only way to decimate the First so that it had no further chance, and he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. He, William the Bloody, wanted to be more than just Buffy's Champion. He wanted to save the whole damn world.

But he didn't want her there while he did it. He wanted her to live.

Through the agony he felt her hand in his, fingers interlocking. He dragged his eyes back to hers. Every memory between them, it was there, held in those glistening green eyes. Spike's hand burst into flames, hers with it.

"I love you," she said. "I'll be waiting for you". Her lips brushed across his, for once the cooler pair.

He hated to lie. Hated that his last words to her would be an untruth. But if she didn't leave, run, flee, he would fail. "I love you too, sweetheart. And I'll be with you soon. I'll always be with you". As another quake rocked them, he gathered his strength and pushed her away. "Now, GO!"

One last look, and then she bolted. Spike closed his eyes. She'd be safe now. He opened them again, saw the destruction. The devastation _he_ had wrought. He grinned wickedly.

"I want to see how it ends".

As the flames devoured him from the inside, he felt peace. Joy.

A hundred and twenty years of causing hell. A little more than one year of heaven. A chance to redeem his past in a blaze of glory.

What more could a man ask for?

* * *

**A/N:** I have lots to say about this chapter and why things had to happen this way, but I'm going to save it for after the next chapter. What do _you_ think about it?


	71. Chapter 71

Dawn knocked, and without waiting for an invitation, poked her head in. "Mom was wondering if you were going to join us upstairs for dinner. Or we could come down here if you wanted".

Buffy smiled weakly from her spot on the leather couch. In the three weeks since she'd returned to her mother's house, she'd barely left the soft, worn corner where she was. Sitting there, she could pretend. Pretend Spike was in their bedroom, pretend nothing had changed in the six months since she had last been here with him, at Thanksgiving.

Spike often slept this late. If she went upstairs for dinner, she could still pretend. Until she saw the sad faces of her mother and sister.

She shook her head. It was much easier to pretend by herself.

* * *

"Sweetie? Mr. Giles called. Again. He sounded quite agitated".

"Thanks, Mom". With a sigh, she turned on her laptop, opened her email. She couldn't handle talking, but… an email would have to do.

Sixty-eight messages awaited her, almost equally divided between Xander, Willow, and Giles, with a few offers for penis enlargement tossed into the mix. She deleted those, her finger continuing to hover over the delete button. How much easier would it be to just erase them all? Eventually they'd get the clue, leave her alone.

She wasn't _The_ Slayer anymore. There was any one of several dozen girls to assume her mantle. They didn't need her. She'd sacrificed enough. First her own life, and now…

_No, Angel._

_I already have my champion._

_He's the one I want by my side._

If only she hadn't believed in him so much, loved him so much. Ironic, wasn't it? She'd killed him with love.

Fiercely blinking back tears, she clicked on Giles' latest message.

.

_Dearest Buffy,_

_We are in the final stages of acquiring the office space I mentioned to you. I have heard from Willow and Tara that they shall be joining us soon. Xander is understandably undecided about his future._

_I hope that you are in good health. When you are ready, we are waiting for you. I must confess, surrounded by so many young women, I see now what remarkable maturity you have always displayed for your age._

_Thinking of you, G._

.

Nothing particularly urgent there, but Giles had impressed on her the need for secrecy regarding their new headquarters before he left. It wasn't something he would discuss casually through email.

.

_Hey Giles,_

_I'm okay. Mom and Dawnie are too._

_I've been thinking about going to UC Sacramento this fall. Good thing records are computerized, so they aren't lost in a giant crater like the ashes of my husband._

Delete.

_… so they aren't lost in a giant crater, which means I can transfer easily._

_Say Hi to the others for me._

_Buffy_

.

It wasn't her worry any more. Spike had wanted her to live. Admittedly, she wasn't living quite as he would have wanted, not yet… but she would, someday.

One day she would wake, and the pain would be a little less, no matter how hard she fought it. On that day, she would begin the life she'd never had. The one where she went to college and was an almost-normal girl, with friends who knew nothing of vampires or witches or Hellmouths. And if she was freakishly strong, and had loved and lost a husband 130 years her senior, well, those were just little quirks that made her uniquely Buffy Anne Summers... _Pratt_.

* * *

"Xander!"

She thought maybe he'd given up on her. There'd been no new emails from him in the last week.

Clearly he was trying a different tactic. She had to admit it was working. It was awfully hard to ignore him when he stood in her doorway, eyepatch only accentuating the haggard, worn look he sported.

"Buff. Can I come in?"

Hastily moving aside, she beckoned him in. "How… how is Anya?"

He looked away, hiding the grief that flashed across his face. "Not much better. They say… they're saying it might be time. To pull the plug".

Buffy felt shame. She wasn't the only one who was suffering. "It's only been a few weeks," she said softly. "Surely…"

Xander sat heavily on the couch – in her spot – and she sat beside him, arms around him. "I don't know. There's no sign of – anything. But I can't… I can't let go".

"You should let Willow-"

He cut her off forcefully. "No! No magic! I've seen the consequences. I won't do that to Anya".

Buffy swallowed. "It doesn't have to be magic. There are herbs – natural, healing herbs. At least let her try. She wants to help you".

_I want to help you, but I don't know how. And without Spike… my strength… I can't help anybody._

Spike was the one who had kept her grounded, kept her from pulling away from those that loved her.

Xander said hesitantly, "We want to help you too, Buffy. All of us. I know… well, I know how you feel. Anya, she stepped in front of the Bringer. To protect me. My brave, foolish wife".

_But you have no idea how I feel. Spike wasn't supposed to die, because he was stronger than Anya, more than Anya._ How could she say that without sounding selfish and pathetic and whiny and cruel?

She didn't say anything.

Eventually they made small talk – _How is your family?_ and _Have you seen any good movies lately?_ Nothing that would indicate the depth of the bond they shared. When he stood to leave, she figured she wouldn't see Xander again for a good, long time.

"I'll make you a deal, Buffy". He stared at her intensely with his one good eye as he hovered in her doorway once more.

"Huh? What? Why?"

"I'll call Willow and let her come help… if you do".

Sagging, Buffy said sadly, "There's nothing Willow can do for me".

"She needs you too, you know".

Buffy relented. "I'll call her," she promised softly. Xander gave her a tight smile and left.

* * *

"Willow?"

"Buffy, oh my god, how are you?"

How to answer that? "Oh, you know. How – how are you?"

"Good! We're good! We just left my folk's new house and we're headed to Anya's hospital as we speak".

There was a somber silence, and Buffy felt compelled to break it. "So, what did your mom think of your hair?"

"She thought it was a statement, that I'm still trying to get her attention. Parents, what can you do, right?" When it came to Willow's, not much. Buffy was surprised the witches had even gone there at all. Apparently losing your childhood home in a giant crater made you nostalgic for the lack of attention your family had given you as a child.

"I can't believe it's permanent".

"Yeah. Well, as far as things go, I could have come off worse than glowing white hair. I mean… if it had gone dark instead…" There was a another silence, but this time Willow spoke first. "And Tara's is identical, so, you know, I don't feel like too much of a freak. We can always glamour it or something when it gets old".

"Not hair dye?"

"Doesn't take".

"Oh".

A horn blared on the other end, the sounds of traffic filling the dead air. "So, Buffy… are you really going to go back to school in the fall?"

"Thinking about it. I have – I can do whatever I want now. No more Hellmouth, no more Chosen One, no more destiny".

"Oh, crap. Buffy – sorry, but traffic just got really bad. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Sure".

If Willow didn't, it would be okay. But if she did, that would be okay too.

* * *

Nights were the most difficult. It was almost impossible to pretend at night, when she lay down in a bed that was too big for just her, knowing the other side would never be filled again.

It wasn't just the emptiness of the bed.

Buffy would patrol Sacramento until the wee hours of the morn – maybe she wasn't _The_ Slayer, but she was still _A_ Slayer. With a whole lot of Slayer energy and the need for an outlet. So she would patrol until she could barely put one foot in front of the other, and then she would come home and collapse into her too big bed and fall asleep, hoping that tonight she wouldn't dream.

.

_She emerges from the Hellmouth, into the school that is collapsing as well, dust choking her lungs and chunks of debris blocking her way. She is running, flying, fleeing, but the front door is blocked, no sign of the others, so she goes up, up the stairs, to the top of the building. _

_Just before it crumbles to dust beneath her feet she sees movement, a lone yellow school bus racing away from her, and she gives chase, leaping impossible distances, wondering how Spike will escape. The Gem of Amarra will protect him from death, but not from being pinned beneath mountains of rubble. She has her homing ring, though; she will come back, unbury him with her own two hands if she has to. She is not leaving him behind, but merely going ahead of him._

_The town is sinking behind her with a groaning, shrieking sound that she thinks may be Hell itself venting its fury. It has failed, they have won, and all it can do now is complain. With one last impossible jump she flies off the final building, landing on the bus as in careens away from the yawning sinkhole, Hell trying to suck them in, trap them for eternity._

_She desperately grips the top of the bus, the wind whipping her hair and bugs and dust stinging her face. The bus passes city limits, and they must have escaped the devouring maw that was pursuing them because the destruction abruptly ceases. All that is left is a deafening silence, distant cracks and snaps barely registering as the bus screeches to a halt, Buffy sliding free to the ground below as she loses her grip._

_Buffy stands, staring at the smoking black crater, an almost perfect circle of destruction, and she can't help but be awed._

_Giles is beside her. "I don't understand. What did this?"_

_"Spike," she says reverently, as the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign topples out of sight. Sunnydale is gone._

_She moves forward, to follow it, to find her lover, but a cry from the bus distracts her._

_"Yo! We need to get moving," Faith calls out, coming to join her and Giles. "Looks like the Hellmouth is officially closed for business, but there's no time to play gawking tourist. We need a hospital, pronto"._

_Giles nods sharply and returns to the bus, but Buffy can't. Doesn't. Spike is expecting her to wait for him._

_When he sees she hasn't moved, Giles returns. "I have to wait for Spike," she says simply._

_"We can't wait any longer"._

_"Then don't. You guys go ahead. I'll be fine"._

_"You have no vehicle, and the sun is brutal out here". He glances out at the smoking pit. "Spike is a survivor, Buffy. He will be fine, just until we can get the injured to a hospital and return with supplies. Ropes, water, flashlights. Alright?"_

_She nods dumbly, because Giles is right. The urge to activate her tracking ring is strong, but she doesn't want to feel the pull as she moves in the opposite direction. She will return soon enough._

_As the bus leaves her home, her husband behind, soft moans of pain and even softer conversation encircles her._

_With a start she notices Tara and Willow, their white hair glowing ethereally as they tend to the wounded. Spike won't be able to call Willow 'Red' if her hair remains like that. Xander holds Anya clutched to him, his face pale and worried, and Buffy moves to help him._

_"We saved the world, Buffy," he says hoarsely, and she nods._

_Willow has joined them. "We changed the world. I can feel them, all over. Slayers awakening everywhere"._

_"We'll have to find them," Tara says quietly._

_Giles stands in the aisle. "We have a lot of work to do". He chuckles dryly. "There is actually another Hellmouth in Cleveland. I suspect it will become far more active now, need the attention of a Slayer…"_

_"Can we take him back and throw him into the crater?" Faith grumbles from the front of the bus. "I just want to sleep for a week!"_

_"I suppose we all could, if we wanted to," Tara says quietly. Xander looks down at Anya, his mouth growing grimmer, and looks away. _

_Willow sees, and lays a glowing hand on the ex-demon's forehead, but Xander shakes her off. They fall into silence as the bus hurtles down the road, Kennedy at the wheel._

.

.

Buffy woke with a startled gasp. She preferred it when she woke at this part of the dream. When she still had hope.

Her troubled mind wasn't about to let her off so easily, and she sank back into a fitful sleep.

.

_Leaving the others at the hospital one town over, the one she and Spike had passed through only days earlier, they gather the supplies they need and return to Sunnydale._

_Giles and Buffy stand on edge of the precipice, listening to the sounds of their former home settling deeper into the earth. With the night wind whistling across the crater, carrying the groans and moans of a dying town to their ears, it is eerie._

_Buffy takes a deep breath. There is no sign of Spike – nobody waiting for them on the side of the road, no lone figure creeping across the rubble. She has tried calling him, but there is no cell service. No towers, after all._

_Panic grips her. He'd said he would follow, find her, but he hasn't yet. He must be hurt. Trapped. Or…_

_With a nervous glance at Giles, she holds her hand out. A part of her doesn't want to do this. She remembers what Spike has told her so long ago. If he is dust, there will be no pull. She doesn't want to experience that moment. _

_Giles puts a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Spike is a survivor," he reminds her. She nods briefly, then twists the jewel._

_Nothing._

_Her heart pounds and her blood rushes in her ears. This is not supposed to be happening. Spike is a survivor. He is immortal, invulnerable. He is supposed to be coming for her, finding her._

_"I'll be with you soon. I'll always be with you"._

_She twists the gem, again and again, back and forth, but the result is the same._

_Nothing._

_He has lied to her. He isn't coming. Not now, not ever. Did he know it was a lie when he sent her away? He had said the Gem of Amarra would protect him. Keep him alive. Did he tell her this on purpose, so she would leave, unaware that she was leaving him to die?_

_The pounding in her head has reached a crescendo now. _

_ Dead, gone, alone, dead._

_Perhaps it is her fault. Perhaps if she had stayed, went after him immediately, she could have saved him. She can't bear the thought._

_Giles stands immobile, watching her gravely. Without a word she steps forward, ready to fling herself into the void, to join him. Strong arms grab her from behind, holding her back._

_"No, Buffy. Don't. Don't dishonor his sacrifice"._

_He has said this to her before, she feels sure of it, but her shattered heart cannot think of when. She falls limply backwards, too spent to even cry._

_In silence, they sit together, until the sun rises, and then they make their way… not home. There is no home. Home is where Spike is. _

_Home is gone._

* * *

In the morning, Buffy felt as wrung out as a limp dishrag. The dream always did that to her. Since she had the same dream every single night, mornings had come to be as miserable as the nighttime. It was only afternoon that was tolerable.

As was her habit now, she twisted the homing ring nervously while she tried to shake off the dream, the small gem spinning back and forth, nothing more than an interesting ring with a loose setting. Without its partner, it was now worth no more than the price of the gold in its band and the tiny jewel it held. She'd have to take it off someday. But not yet.

* * *

"Buffy!"

As usual, Dawn didn't wait for an invitation. "Look what I found!"

It was a smallish box, plain but for a shoe logo on the side. Her chest tightened. She knew exactly what it was.

"What – how?"

Dawn bit her lip. "I – I took it. That summer – when you were – and then we moved, like, right away after you came back, and I guess it's been in my room all this time".

"And I didn't think about it – because…"

"Because you had the real thing. You didn't need this".

Buffy understood the unspoken question Dawn was asking. _Do you need it now_? "Let's – let's take a look, okay?"

Dawn set the box in front of her, on the coffee table. From her spot on the couch, Buffy leaned forward, removing the lid. Inside was … Spike. All the mementos of her forced cross-country vacation – so long ago. Things she hadn't looked at in years.

Resting on top was the playbill for the Shakespeare production. Buffy lifted it reverentially, then chocked back a sob. Spike stared up at her from underneath, scowling, looking exactly as she'd seen him the day he'd died, with the exception of a cheap blue poncho covering his torso. Underneath were more photos, each one eliciting a fresh wave of burning in her eyes. Dawn sniffled silently beside her, leaning into her. After the photos of Niagara came the souvenirs from the amusement park. And under that…

.

"I love you,  
Not only for what you are,  
But for what I am  
When I am with you.

I love you,  
Not only for what  
You have made of yourself,  
But for what  
You are making of me.  
I love you  
For the part of me  
That you bring out;  
I love you  
For putting your hand  
Into my heaped-up heart  
And passing over  
All the foolish, weak things  
That you can't help  
Dimly seeing there,  
And for drawing out  
Into the light  
All the beautiful belongings  
That no one else had looked  
Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you  
Are helping me to make  
Of the lumber of my life  
Not a tavern  
But a temple;  
Out of the works  
Of my every day  
Not a reproach  
But a song.

I love you  
Because you have done  
More than any creed  
Could have done  
To make me good  
And more than any fate  
Could have done  
To make me happy.  
You have done it  
Without a touch,  
Without a word,  
Without a sign.  
You have done it  
By being yourself.  
Perhaps that is what  
Being a friend means,  
After all."

.

.

The poem reminded her of just how far he had come. From the gentle man who had been turned into a vicious, gleeful monster, then the monster who had tried to be a loving man, and finally, the valiant man in a monster's body.

Buffy finally let go, sobs wracking her body, crying out the pain and grief and anger she'd been trying to hold in for so long. She couldn't pretend any more.

Her husband was dead.

But what a glorious death it had been. He had died a Champion. She would mourn him, yes, and love him, always.

And she would honor him by living, as he had wanted her to do.

* * *

It was the next day when the moment she'd been dreading came. It hurt just a little less when she woke. She didn't suddenly remember Spike was gone, she simply knew it, in the back of her mind, and the knowledge didn't leave her breathless and shaking with despair.

She was healing.

The first thing she did was call Xander.

"How's Anya?"

"I think Willow's witchy brew might be helping. The doctor said she has definite brain wave activity".

"Xander, that's wonderful!" She hesitated, afraid to ask, but made herself do it anyway. "Do you think I could come visit her?"

"Of course, Buffy," he said quickly, his voice pregnant with emotion. "Anytime. Whenever you're ready".

Willow was next.

"I've missed you Wills".

"You too, Buffy. Hey, guess what I'm getting really good at!"

"What?"

"Teleportation spells. I could show you – pop right over".

"Really – ahhhhh!" Willow stood in front of her. "Geez Willow. What if I was naked or picking my nose or something!"

"Sorry," her friend smiled sheepishly. "I couldn't wait".

She called Giles late that night, when it was morning overseas.

"So, I've been thinking about what I want to do now".

"And?"

"Well… I guess maybe you might need help. With training all the new Slayers?"

"I would love that, Buffy, but it is not required. Whatever you decide, I will support you one hundred percent".

"Okay. I guess I don't have to decide today". Enough that she'd begun the process. Begun to reach out, of her own volition.

"Absolutely not. But whatever you do decide, remember how proud of you I am. You are an extraordinary young woman".

She sat quietly after, contemplating. For the first time in years she could be anything. It was a bit overwhelming. Maybe when she went upstairs for dinner she could ask her mom to remind her what she used to want to be when she grew up. Besides Christian Slater's wife, of course.

As she thought, her hands laced together, then her fingers found the ring and began playing with it. She would take it off – tomorrow. But for now, her nervous habit prevailed. _Twist, twist. Twist, twist. On, off. Track, don't track. Nothing –_

_Something?!_

She tried it again. Off, on – she felt a distinct pull, for only a moment, and then it was gone.

Buffy leapt to her feet, eyes wild.

_ ._

_ ._

END PART V

* * *

** A/N:** When I first had the idea for this story, I think one of my first thoughts was 'If Spike had the Gem, then he never would have died at the end'. Makes sense, right? And so, for most of the fic, that's what I was working towards in my mind. I think I was originally going to skip the intervening years, but that didn't seem to flow quite right the more I got into it. I had to think about what parts of canon would have to stay in order for them to still end up in that final scene, and the whole thing got more and more involved. By the time I got to the point where I felt like Spuffy was a real go, it was practically S7, and I knew I had to go all the way then, up to the final moments - still working towards the point where Spike walked away unharmed.

And then... around Ch 67 I realized that I couldn't take that final moment away from him. That Spike getting a soul and working towards that moment was about more than him and Buffy falling in love - it was about Spike truly becoming a Champion (rather than just a pretty good guy). Somebody equal to the Chosen warrior for good. (It's gratifying to know that most everybody feels the same way!) Luckily I had given myself an out - magic spells had worked on Spike the whole time, despite the ring. And so I went ahead with Spike's death, knowing that he would be back anyhow.

Although - if it were a world where magic didn't exist (ignoring that none of this story would have happened without magic), I felt like it would be a pretty good ending, with Buffy having loved and lost and found the courage to go on. I would have pushed this line: "And if she was freakishly strong, and had loved and lost a husband 130 years her senior, well, those were just little quirks that made her uniquely Buffy Anne Summers... _Pratt_." to the very end. Doesn't that feel like a good last line?

So that was the other reason Spike had to die. Because (in this story at least) Buffy's death actually makes Spike into a better person, pushing him further into who he needed to be, by drawing strength from his feelings for Buffy AND by forging relationships with others. I felt we needed to have that sense of symmetry with Buffy - something about Spike's death has pushed her to be an even better person. I have my idea about what it is. What do you think?

Well then. There's the mystery of how and why I wrote this story solved. Next up is the epilogue, and then a "missing" chapter. Thank you so much for coming along on this ride and sharing all your thoughts with me!


	72. Epilogue

**Author's Notes:**

Well this is (almost) it! You've come to a fork in the road. The missing/bonus chapter that I will post next actually comes before the epilogue chronologically, but it breaks up the pace of the story. In a real book (where we didn't already know that Spike ends up in LA), it could be left out. But I wanted to know how a Spike who knows he's loved handled being tied to LA, and I figured you would too - hence the bonus chapter.

All that to say: you can wait and read the final chapter first, then come back to the epilogue if you'd prefer.

Either which way, be sure to tell me what you thought once you've finished the story, especially all you shy lurkers! :) Even if you discover this story years from now, please go ahead and leave a review, I'd love to know what you think!

* * *

The makeshift stake in his hand drove downward with all his considerable strength, causing the vampire beneath him to scream in agony. He stood, his face sliding back to human as the vampire's beneath him did the same.

"Probably should have dusted you. But honestly? I don't want to hear _her_ bitch about it".

Spike turned away from his grandsire, reaching for the gaudy golden cup.

"Spike, wait! Wait! That's not a prize you're holding," Angel protested, drawing the fragment of wood from his shoulder with a gasp. "It's not a trophy. It's a burden. A cross". He stood painfully. "One you're going to have to bear until it burns you to ashes. Believe me. I know".

Placing the cup back on the pedestal, Spike narrowed his eyes as Angel continued talking. "So ask yourself – Is this really the destiny that was meant for you? You don't need it. You have Buffy, a life to live, a destiny of your own. Do you really want this too? Or is it just that you want to take something away from me?"

Spike had already considered his choice. The torment part? Not his bag. The chance to be human? Not something he'd ever wanted again – but… being a living, breathing man would give him certain advantages. There was one thing he couldn't do for Buffy, and he had to be human if he ever wanted to. _That _would be worth it.

Taking the old sod's destiny away from him? After he'd refused to call Buffy, refused to help ghostie Spike out? Nothing but a bonus.

He looked Angel in the eye and shrugged. "Bit of both". He raised the cup to his lips and swallowed deeply as the other vampire staggered towards him, then let it fall from his hands, stunned.

"It – it's… Mountain Dew".

Surprised, unsure of what it meant, the pair of them stood like fools, staring at each other.

_What the bloody hell is going on?_

Both heads whipped around at the sound of thudding feet. "Spike! Spike! Where are you?" Buffy skidded to a halt in front of them, nervously twisting a ring on her finger. "Really? How – What the hell?"

His drank her in, joy at her appearance edging out surprise. "Hullo cutie," Spike said, trying for smooth.

"Don't give me that!" Her eyes raked over him, taking in his battered appearance. "How long?"

"Not very".

"And – the first thing to do _wasn't_ pick up a phone and call me?" she demanded furiously.

He took a step back, hands up. "Would have been. Right after this. Was a bit of chaos to be dealt with first. Apparently my reemergence amongst the living – er – whatever, caused the universe to go out of whack. Thought you'd forgive me if I took care of that first".

* * *

He was gazing at her, blue eyes pleading and warm, and Buffy glared back, not sure if she could forgive Spike just like that. She'd been feeling flashes of him for weeks now, the ring seeming to activate randomly for seconds at a time. Until today, when the pull of the ring had turned on and stayed on, long enough for her to (_finally!_) follow it, driving at speeds that would have terrified even her husband. Surely he could have let her know somehow? Not left her to panic and worry and think she was losing her mind?

But – there he was. Living, breathing – okay undead, unbreathing. But flesh. Substance. Presence. His sorry excuses for why he hadn't called her could wait.

"Husband," she murmured, rushing forward, wrapping her arms around him and sighing as his encircled her, amazement and shock giving way to relief. She squeezed him tighter as she laid her head against his chest, and he hissed in pain.

Pulling back and glaring at him once more, she asked, "What on earth happened here?"

Spike darted a furtive glance at Angel. "We were – trying to resolve the small matter of the universe spinning off its hinges".

"By beating each other to death?"

"More or less," Angel muttered petulantly. "It's _his_ existence that caused the problem in the first place".

Spike rolled his eyes. "Nothing doing mate, you know the Powers dumped your sorry self and brought me in to replace you. _I'm_ the better Champion".

Buffy, already exhausted from the drive and strung out from the events of the day, couldn't take their bickering just then. Frustrated she stepped away from her husband to better make her point, ignoring how her body screamed to remain pressed up against the man she thought she'd lost forever.

"One of you better start giving me answers," she threatened. "Before I finish the job you started".

Spike darted a panicked glance at Angel and then reached for her, hurrying to explain. "See, it all started when I popped out of that shiny trinket your sweetie-bear brought you…"

* * *

"But Spike, I don't understand. I didn't think you _wanted _to be human. And with the Gem of Amarra, I mean, it's like the best of both worlds". Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Where is it, by the way? You didn't lose it, did you?"

He pulled it out of his pocket and slipped it on. "I wanted to beat the wanker fair and square, luv, let him know who the best man is".

"The 'wanker' finds calling you the best man debatable," Angel growled.

"The victor writes history. Which makes you the wanker and me the best man. Now shut it, I'm having a private conversation with my wife here". Angel grumbled, but didn't move away.

"Angel," Buffy said dangerously, her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "If I understand it right, you knew how much I was grieving for my husband but didn't in any way, say, let me know he was around. Personally, I'd call you the wanker too. And a whole lot worse".

Spike shot Angel a triumphant look and turned his back to him, taking both of Buffy's hands in his.

"S'not so much that I want to be human as… Saw the way you looked when Robin told his tale. When you realized a Slayer could have kiddies. Thought it might be… wanted to give that to you if I could. Give you that chance. S'the only thing I can't give you. And if it takes turning me back into a man to do it…"

Buffy stared at Spike. If the vampire holding her hands didn't love her, she couldn't imagine what love was. He'd given up evil, taken on a soul, and died for her. And now he was talking about relinquishing the power and the strength he cherished to give her something she'd never dared dream of?

Heedless of his injuries, she tackled him to the ground, kissing him senseless, pouring months worth of despair and loss and longing and love into him through her mouth, her hands, her body, desperate to reassure herself that, yes, he really was there, that his body was indeed real and underneath her own.

Angel cleared his throat uncomfortably when Spike rolled them over, then louder as their hands grasped frantically at each other.

"Oh. Sorry, Angelus. Not," Spike smirked, pulling a very flustered Buffy to her feet. She looked everywhere but at Angel.

"I don't understand," Angel said thickly. "You find the Gem of Amarra. You earn the propehesy-"

"Apparently fake, remember?" Spike interjected, but Angel waved him off.

"You end up with the life I was destined for. And the girl and maybe even the fat grandbabies. I'm the one the Powers chose. You – you're just a screw-up. Not meant for this". He shook his head in disbelief. "You have to be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the history of the universe".

Buffy wanted to protest Angel's assessment. Wanted to say something along the lines of how Spike worked for it instead of waiting for somebody to hand him what he deserved. Or maybe she would say something about the choices and the changes Spike had made.

Except she didn't. Because if she tried to speak to Angel right now, she would resort to using her fists to back up her points.

So she waited to see what her husband had to say, knowing he'd find the perfect words somehow.

Spike looked down at her and she leaned into him, clasping his hand tightly. "Luck has nothing to do with it, mate. Nothing at all".

His blue eyes were fixed on hers, the overwhelming passion and intense devotion stealing her breath away.

"It's all about love".

**THE END**

(almost)

* * *

**A/N OCT 5th**: The epilogue has been updated. I removed some of the Spangel snarkage. Even though I loved the snarkage, it didn't really fit the rest of the story. I'll post the original chapter on my LJ so it won't be lost to the ages. Thanks to everybody who was brave enough to be honest and point out that the snarkage didn't fit!


	73. The Missing Chapter

**Author's Notes:**

Well, here we are. At the end. Not to fret; I have a five chapter sequel already written. Because I suffer from word diarrhea. Congratulations on finishing a 900 page book (Yup, word diarrhea).

Hopefully this chapter will answer all your questions, like - why didn't Spike find somebody to call Buffy, and, why did Angel refuse, and, did Spike get it on with Harmony? (The way he treats Harmony this season is to me his lowest moment, not the moment in the bathroom).

GREAT BIG HUGS and thank yous to all my readers and reviewers, especially those of you who shared your honest opinions, it really helped me to improve the story. Also HUGE thanks to the people who made it a point to review (almost) every chapter. It's nice to know somebody is reading. Hopefully it's a good thing that you've encouraged me to write more!

* * *

_Searing, agonizing, unbearable pain. Only worse. Unnatural, in reverse. Dust becoming solid, bone reknitting, organs unexploding, eyeballs unliquifying, muscles returning to their raw state, skin re-sheathing, hair unsingeing. Heat dissipating. _

_Pain remaining, along with confusion._

_Some place he has never been before. He can't yet remember who he is or where he has been, but he knows not here. There are faces he does not recognize._

_He finds he has a voice. Vocal cords that were burnt to ash now function. "What… what…?"_

_There is a woman who seems familiar. "What the hell are you doing here, Spike?"_

_Spike. Yes, he is Spike. Images flit through his head of screaming people dying, his hunger draining their lives. And then one image that takes away the breath he has just discovered. Green eyes, gazing at him with love._

_Voices drift around him, making little sense. "Harmony, please"._

_"This is Spike? The Spike?"_

_"Wait a minute… who is Spike?"_

_"William the Bloody. He's a vampire. One of the worst recorded. Second only to-"._

_"Me". Spike focuses on this new voice. He knows this voice. He hates this voice. "But you're dead"._

_The Harmony bint is nattering on, but Spike is focused the one he hates. The name 'Angelus' springs to mind and he lunges, feeling his face shift – yes, vampire – and he attacks the one he wants to destroy. Except –_

_Spike passes right though him. Surprised, more confused than ever, he stops, turns. Looks down at himself._

_"Bugger"._

_They tell him he is a ghost, but he cannot process, only stare in pain and confusion, until he hears one word – Buffy. Emerald eyes, filled with love. Buffy._

_"Buffy – Is she…?"_

_"She's OK," Angel replies. Relief courses through him. He doesn't want to remember why he feels relief at this, because the feeling of undusting remains strong. Visceral. Should a ghost feel that?_

_But he does remember, all the memories of 150 years slamming back into him, the ones of his wife front and center. The wife whom he has left waiting for him in a town that is not here._

_"Where is she?"_

_"At her mom's. She hasn't been… out much". _

_ Oh, Buffy. "Need to see her. Need to talk to her," Spike mutters._

_"That's going to be tough"._

_Spike glares. She needs to know. That he loves her, misses her. Except – bloody hell, he's a ghost. "You can't keep me here"._

_"Believe me, I don't want to". Angel smiles nastily. "But you know, it's been… difficult for me, consoling the grieving widow. Guess who she turned to in her hour of need?"_

_He has to be lying. "My wife would never-"_

_"Oh my God, you and the Slayer?" Harmony screeches. "I'd heard rumors but… that's just sick. I… yeachhh"._

_The thin girl speaks up. "Wait, Spike and Buffy…?"_

_"Considered themselves married," the British man says. He looks at Angel's sour face. "It wasn't something we ever spoke of… around the office…" Of course the berk wouldn't want to admit the girl he loved had chosen Spike over him._

_"So Spike's a good guy vampire?" the black man asks. "Like Angel?"_

_"He does have a soul," the Brit begins._

_Angel's response is swift and harsh. "He's nothing like me". _

_"You've got that right!" Spike agrees. But there are more pressing matters. "What is this place? Who are you people? What the bloody hell is happening?"_

_The thin girl looks at him with compassion. "Come with me. I'll – there are some things I can do, to try to figure out what is happening to you. We'll fill you in on the way"._

_They tromp through a building and into a science lab, Spike floating through walls for the novel sensation of it. In the lab, there is scanning involved, along with brief introductions and explanations. Spike isn't liking any of it, especially when they tell him he is connected to the amulet. The shiny trinket Angel gave to Buffy. God in heaven, what if she had worn it? What if this had been happening to her right now?_

_But she hadn't. He had, because she had chosen him. To be her Champion. And that was okay, he is glad to have done this for her, proud to have died for her._

_Except, apparently there is no eternal rest for the wicked. He doesn't remember what came before, but he knows now how Buffy felt about being pulled out of heaven._

_"Maybe he's here for a reason," Fred says, "You know, some higher purpose or something he's destined for. Sent to us by the PTB to help us-"_

_"Who gave them the bloody right to do that?" he yells. "Can't a man die in peace without some high almighty deciding it's not his time? Let's have a little more fun with him, eh? You'd think that saving the sodding world would be enough to earn me a rest. You'd think-"_

_"Spike?" Fred says as her eyes widen, and he realizes he feels – less here._

_He looks at his fading body. "Oh balls"._

_And then –_

.

.

Spike gasped painfully. Well, metaphorically. Not only was he a vampire and dead, now he was a doubly dead ghost of a vampire. No gaspage occurring.

Still, the mental gasp was strong. He was in-between again, and he didn't want to remember the _other_ place. The one he went to when he faded completely.

He wasn't enjoying this ghostly business overly, but it was better than _there_. If that was his final destination, he'd put it off for now, thank you very much.

In the back of his mind, he was constantly trying to figure out how to get in touch with Buffy – should he get in touch with Buffy? Marrying a vampire was one thing, but would she want a ghost of a vampire?

Not that it mattered if he couldn't even let her know he was halfway on this plane of existence. It wasn't like the tosser of an ex would do it for him – either tosser of an ex, that was. Angel or Harmony. Maybe that Fred bird would call Buffy for him, she seemed like a right nice girl. Or the Brit, that Wesley bloke the Scooby gang had mentioned.

In the meantime, Spike was beginning to realize that being able to follow Angel around at will wasn't half bad. He sprawled in a chair, watching Angel conduct 'business'. Wasn't that a lark?

"You don't have to take that from him, mate," he told the poor sod Mr. Boss Man was intimidating.

"Stay out of this Spike, you don't work here".

"Damn right I don't. Look at you. This is what you do now? The mighty hero reduced to a bloody bureaucrat. No wonder the Slayer chose me, she knew what a prat you were…"

"Get _out_ of here, Spike".

Now there was an idea. Why call the wife when you could… float to her. "Gladly. Cruel enough punishment being stuck here as a spook while you play 'Chairman of the Boring'. But hell if I'm going to spend my afterlife in your stinking city. Get stuffed".

Spike wondered how this ghostly business worked. Could he hop a bus? Did he sleep? "Guess I'll find out," he mumbled to himself as he passed through the front entrance to the great outdoors. He looked down, noting the bright sunlight made him a little see-throughish for his tastes. Not much he could do about that.

He wandered the streets, quickly realizing that having to avoid people so they didn't _not_ bump into him was bloody annoying. Time to try out that bus theory. Spike found one heading in the general direction of north, and simply phased right into the unoccupied back end. Well, that was nifty. As the bus took him farther and farther from Angel's evil empire, he felt relief. And soon, he would see Buffy, comfort her himself…

_WHUMP!_

Spike found himself gasping in very non-metaphorical pain, inside the basement of… Wolfram and bloody Hart. What the hell?

He wasted no time wandering but headed outside, then popped into the back of a semi. He didn't care where it was heading, he wanted away as rapidly as possible.

He'd just begun to relax when the same wrenching sensation hit him again, landing him back inside Angel's empty office.

Spike was getting pissed now. This time he ran, or appeared to run on ghostie feet, sprinting down the sidewalks and away. Far, far away. One good thing about being incorporeal, getting tired wasn't an issue. He'd just reached a sign announcing he was at the city limits when – _bloody buggering hell_ – with a scream he was jerked though space, landing face down in the lab, and then disappearing a moment later – going _there_.

* * *

He trudged back to Angel's office.

"Spike. What are you doing here? I thought you left town".

"Don't think I didn't bleeding try".

Tied to Wolfram and Hart. Angel. That was no reward for a hero.

And gave him little to offer his wife.

_Hi, honey. I'm a vampire. And a ghost. That can't leave your bastard of an ex's side. You want to come move in with Angel so I can haunt you and stare soulfully at you? Me and Angel-cakes can have contests, see who can give you the most longing look._

And if Buffy _did_ agree to that… didn't matter how much of soulmates they were, not when he had nothing to offer her but his love. Not when the ex would be by his side, doing the same. And the prat could offer a bit more. A loving touch. A brief kiss.

The ability to pass city limits.

No, best to keep Buffy out of this. Let her mourn him and get over him, get on with her life, the way it was supposed to go. Especially when… well, who knew how long he would even be halfway here. The pull of the other place seemed to be getting stronger.

May as well haunt Angel. At least he could have a little fun before he was dragged down for good.

* * *

Spike found he wasn't feeling nearly as much equanimity about Hell as he wanted to. Sure, he'd been evil, gloriously so, but he rather thought he'd repented. Made up for it just a bit, by sacrificing the life he had been so very much enjoying in order to save the world.

But each time he went below, he stayed a little longer. The brief glimpses of Hell he'd been experiencing seemed like a bloody eternity each. Did he really deserve an actual eternity there?

Whether he did or not, he wasn't going to go quietly.

Fred. She would help.

"I know what's down there – where it's trying to take me – and it's not where heroes go. Not by a bloody long shot. It's the other one. Full of fire and torment. And it's happening. And I'm terrified," he said. He turned to her. "Help me?"

"Spike. Of course".

* * *

The girl tried. She'd work on it for a day or so, and then something else would come along, something that was a priority. He wasn't a priority. Nobody cared about him here, not like… he swallowed that thought. The amulet was here, belonged to this office. No point in getting anybody else involved. There was nothing a Slayer or a witch or a carpenter or a little sister could do for him. It had to be the scientist. She'd set him to rights or she wouldn't.

* * *

"Spike! Go haunt someone else!"

"And miss see you getting so hot and bothered? Not likely. 'Sides, ol' chap, this is the only kind of hot and bothered you can get, isn't it? You're so damn tight I'd tell you to loosen up, get laid, but… nobody wants that, do they. What's it like, having to go without? How long has it been for you… six years?" A malicious grin split his face as Angel studiously ignored him. "I know exactly how long, you tosser. Ever since poor Bitty Buffy turned seventeen. What was that like for you, taking her innocence? Deflowering the poor girl and then unleashing your monster on her?"

Angel lunged at him.

Pointlessly.

"Yeah, that's right. Funny how she fell in love with me when I didn't even have a soul. Didn't need one to treat her right".

Cold, dark eyes fixed on him. "Yes, I heard how right you treated her. You had your own turn at taking Buffy's innocence, didn't you? Faith told me all about your little tryst with her. Tell me, William, which particular experience hurt Buffy more do you think?" Angel wondered aloud.

Spike swallowed, all the fun gone out of it. "That – that wasn't…"

"You? Don't give me that bullshit. You know it was. Know that monster is still inside of you. Just like it's still inside of me. Don't tell me you don't remember sharing _that_ little tidbit with Buffy when you had her tied naked to a bed against her will".

_Buffy chose me_, he reminded himself. _I changed, and she loved me. Chose me._

Angel wasn't done. "That's why I will not be the one to let her know your sorry spirit is hanging around; why everybody here is under orders to do the same. She deserves better than you".

"'Ve already sussed that one out on my own," Spike mumbled too low for Angel to hear. Louder, he said, "Our Buffy doesn't like having choices made for her. She'll be mighty pissed when she finds out you hid me from her on purpose".

Angel shrugged. "We'll just have to hope your disappearing act becomes permanent before then. She's forgiven me worse". He rubbed his chin, thinking aloud. "Maybe you're right, maybe I do need to get laid. Willow's still pretty good with magic, isn't she? I wonder if she still has that re-ensoulling spell around". He stood. "Thanks, Spike".

Spike ran after him. "Hold on now, where you going?"

"I'm going to go visit our little Buff. It's been long enough for her to play the grieving widow, don't you think? After all, you're not in the picture any more".

It was Spike's turn to lunge ineffectually.

"Don't! Don't you lay your hands on her, Angelus! I'll kill you!" He followed the bigger vampire into the garage, sat in the car next to him as he sped through town. Yelling, threatening, begging him to leave Buffy alone. "I'm sorry mate, please, don't. I know you're pissed at me, but don't take it out on her. Don't hurt her".

Angel stared ahead, his face impassive. "Oh look. City limit sign. Bye, Spike".

Abruptly wrenched back, Spike let out a howl of dismay, tearing off to Fred's office. "Fred," he sobbed, "You have to help me, I don't care what stupid orders Angel gave you!"

She said, "Hold on," into the phone she was holding, and then pressed the speaker button. "I'm just going to step outside," she said, eyes darting between Spike and the phone as she shut the door behind her.

Spike stared at her through the window, and she gestured to the phone. "H-hello?" he asked.

"Listen up, wee little Willy. I don't care if Buffy made a colossal error of judgment and fell in love with you. You are nothing to me. Don't ever try to fuck with my head like that again, do you understand?"

"A-Angel?"

"Yes, you moron. You don't have any power here. I do. So get used to it".

"You're… are you really going to Sacramento?" Spike asked, hating the fear in his voice.

There was a long silence, and then Angel said, "No. I… I wouldn't hurt her like that, Spike, you should know better". Then he hung up.

* * *

Spike swallowed his pride. "I'm sorry Angel," he said. Angel glared at him as he sat there. Sat politely on his grandsire's sofa, without the usual insolent, disrespectful sprawl. And awaited his response, meek and docile. Spike knew he'd gone too far this time, and while the thought would have made him right proud of himself any other day, the possibility that his behavior could have affected Buffy was enough to make him submissive for once.

Angel loomed over him, seemingly at a loss, then let his body drop into the chair across from Spike. "What do you think of Nina?" he asked.

"Huh?" Not that he was complaining, but _huh_?

"Nina. The werewolf. She seems nice, don't you think?"

So they were going to ignore the Buffy thing. Fair enough. "She seems nice," he agreed. "Bet she could make you… sorta happy?"

"Yeah," Angel smiled. But broodily. He had that down, he did. "Sorta happy enough".

* * *

The mutilated ghosties trying to haunt the vamp ghostie were, for lack of a better word, terrifying. Not the ghosties themselves, but the promise they held of what was in store for him. At least they weren't his ghosts, not like that time in Africa.

Fred wasn't much farther on with the Spike save-age than before, and he was feeling it. The pull into eternal damnation. Not one of your more pleasant feelings, never mind the brave front he put up for Angel.

"You think any of it matters? The things we did? The lives we destroyed. That's all that's ever gonna count. So, yeah, surprise. You're going to hell," Angel told him with full certitude. "We both are".

Spike didn't quite want to believe him. "Then why even bother? Try to do the right thing, make a difference?"

"What else are we going to do?" Angel asked.

Indeed. What else?

Best try to accept it. "So that's it then. I really am going to burn".

"Welcome to the club".

"Least I got company, eh?" Spike tried to build a sense of solidarity with his partner-in-hell, but it dissolved into bickering. Typical.

They went back and forth for several minutes until they ran out of insults. The great hulking git fidgeted for a moment, uncomfortable. "There was one thing about you…" he trailed off, and Spike waited, curious. He was gratified – shocked, but gratified – when Angel admitted sheepishly, "Yeah, I never told anybody about this, but I liked your poems".

His chest felt all warm and fuzzy at the complement, and that wasn't right, so after a moment he shot back, "_You_ like Barry Manilow".

And then the evil spooks returned.

* * *

He had to put the day in the win column. Still a ghost, okay, but not headed for hell anymore. At least not this day. The true monster was locked away. Fred was safe and unstrangled, always a happy outcome. And he could bend reality to his desire. Just a smidgen.

Now that he had a little more permanence – and the ability to reach out and touch someone – he didn't think it would be quite so pointless to alert Buffy to existence. With which Angel _still_ wouldn't help him out. But Spike would get there. Somehow. Faint heart never won fair lady, and if there was one thing he knew, his heart was more than strong enough for the task at hand.

He just had to practice his new tricks first.

* * *

"Oh, Fred," he sighed, not ashamed to let her see his pleasure. "Thank you".

He'd told her the story some days prior. Of the significance of today's date. And of the cupcake Buffy had brought him one year ago to commemorate the event (but not what had happened after, mind you. Fred was a bit too much of a lady to hear that sort of thing).

"Happy soul day," she replied, her brown eyes soft and compassionate as she held the cupcake up for him. He concentrated hard, then puffed out a wisp of air, extinguishing the flame. "Did you make a wish?"

"You know what it is".

Setting the cupcake on the lab bench, she leaned in close enough to whisper in his ear. "I could call her. For you. I think Angel is wrong."

"Gonna do it myself," Spike countered, his expression stubborn. "Got a couple weeks 'til our anniversary. To practice more. Know I'll have enough control by then, make it a good surprise for her". He'd knocked that cyborg out for Charlie, hadn't he? He was getting stronger every day.

And as for Angel – well, his grandsire did have a valid point. He reminded Spike regularly that it was selfish of him to expect Buffy to tie herself to a ghost, to not let her get on with a real life. "Spike," he'd say, radiating forced patience. "It's not that I don't like you. Well, it is. That aside, I know you love Buffy and she…"

Angel could never bring himself to admit that Buffy loved him back, but Spike knew the old man thought it at least. Granddaddy was making an effort to acknowledge what the married couple meant to each other, and he appreciated how hard it was for Angel – even if Spike would never admit to being so understanding either. "But give this some thought. Is this what you really want for her? To be tied down to no more than a memory of a man?"

Sometimes Angel would go as far as to say, with something suspiciously like empathy in his voice, "What you want, it would be worse than if I had tied her to me, William. The hardest thing I've ever done was to leave Buffy's side and set her free, but I couldn't condemn her to a half-life in the shadows. To a man who could never properly love her. Why would you do that to the woman you love?"

Spike couldn't help but agree with him. And if he'd been your average ghost, all flickering and moaning and haunting, then he wouldn't have even dreamt of a future with Buffy. But if Spike was doomed to be a ghost, he didn't plan on being your average ghost anymore than he'd ever been an average vampire.

So he worked at being a ghost that could touch. Kiss. Punch the bad guys.

He figured they would sort out the rest.

Fred held up her hand and he pressed his palm to hers, managing to hold solid for almost five whole seconds. "Yeah. Buffy's in for one hell of a nice surprise," she said wistfully.

* * *

It wouldn't do to be homeless once he was finally able to call his wife and invite her to join him. Annoying his grandsire wasn't one of his better plans, even Spike knew that, but he had to admit aggravating Angel in the hopes that the wanker would give him his own space was fun.

As long as he didn't cross that thin line again, the one that made Angelus come out and play.

Spike was feeling right puffed up from his earlier tender moment with Fred. A pretty girl giving him affection always did it for him. He needed an outlet for his emotions, and Angel was so very convenient.

"Get the hell away from me, Spike!"

Spike grinned in delight, following the lumbering git through the halls of Evil Incorporated.

Fun.

"Would that I could, you big ape. 'Til then, why don't you make us both happy and give me what I want".

"You're not getting an apartment. You don't need one."

"You selfish sod! The rest of your lot get to go home to their nice and cozies. Me? I gotta nest in someone else's roost. It's not bleeding right!"

Angel growled in exasperation as Harmony handed him his mail. "You don't work here. You haunt this place and annoy me. That's all".

"Job well done, eh?" Spike retorted after his retreating form. "I'm not hanging 'round your pillow, singing dirty ditties while you rest your overblown head upon it, much as I might want to. Doesn't that merit me some consideration? A private spot of my own to rest my handsome head?"

"You're incorporeal, Spike. You don't rest your head. You don't need a private spot for anything". Angel walked into his office and slammed the door shut in Spike's face. Like that would stop a ghostly vampire.

He was about the pass through the doors when Harmony called out, "Spike? You got mail".

* * *

Bloody hell.

Feeling. Senses on overload. Hunger.

_Desire_.

It all came flooding back.

His body vibrated while they nattered around him. Lust consumed him. Vampire, after all.

Sex. Blood. Violence.

The taste of blood from his nose – and oh, sweet merciful God, the hunger, not even remotely satisfied by Angel's otter.

The warmth of Charlie-boy under his fingertips. Itching to sink his fangs in. Enjoying the contact more.

Parts that had been useless – or, more precisely, untouchable – for so long now stirred. Hard to diddle your willy when it took so much concentration.

And. Oh. Harmony.

_That's_ why he had put up with her for weeks longer than any sane man would.

Wanted to touch. Kept his hands to himself though. Had learned to control the lust long ago, before the soul even, no matter how rampant it was at the moment.

And then…

_Buffy_.

"I – Buffy!" he shouted with joy. Spike ran to the phone and picked it up (_yes!_), flinging it away as it shrieked in his ear. He rushed to Harmony's side and grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her back to her desk. "Harmony! Make it work!"

"Get off!" she snapped, shoving him away.

"Wouldn't I like to," he muttered. He took her hand again, rubbing soft circles with his thumb and giving her his sweetest smile. "The phones? Please, luv?" Her eyes narrowed at him. "That's a very pretty skirt you're wearing," he said, oozing charm and sincerity.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but fondly. "Sure, Spikey".

* * *

The fondness seemed to run out after a bit.

He sat in her chair, head in hands, staring forlornly at the phone he couldn't make work.

"Spike?" Harmony ventured. She probably wanted him out of her chair or some such. Didn't care right then.

"Shh. Don't talk. Trying to think".

Apparently the wrong answer.

"Ahhh!" he screamed as her fangs dug into the back of his neck. Not erotic, that. Painful. "Harmony! What the bloody hell has gotten into…" He shoved her off and turned around. "Your eyes?"

"You! Being nice to me! But you never were. Left me. For her. I'm not yours!"

He held his hands up. "Right. Not mine".

"Using me! To get to your Slayer whore! I'll kill you!"

He had to put her porch lights out. It was for the best.

You understand.

* * *

Why share the good news with the wife via phone when you now had the ability do it in person? The wish he'd made earlier had come true after all. Maybe Fred had brought him a magic candle. Spike was all set to leave, already planning to heist the Viper and make it there in four hours flat, when Eve put a wrench in his plans.

Leaving town wouldn't fix the tear in the equilibrium. But maybe a prophesy would. The one that washed your sins clean and made you human. The Shined Shoes crap that Angel had claimed he didn't believe in.

Git.

He ended up stealing the Viper anyway, just not for his original intention. After his brief sojourns into hell – which may have only been thanks to Pavayne's black magic rather than his true final destination, but he didn't know for sure – the idea of being washed clean held some appeal.

More appealing was the promise of becoming human. Not so much for himself. He would hate it for himself. But he remembered how tightly Buffy had clutched his hand when she'd realized Slayers could have children. How she'd brought up the topic in round about ways for a few days after before dropping it permanently, realizing that bearing his children wouldn't be part of her future for a whole different reason.

So, yeah, he'd relinquish superpowers and immortality, become even more of a bleeding ponce than he was if he could make that dream come true for her. No question about it.

Which was why he was racing his way towards a drink of light, refreshing torment.

* * *

"Oh yeah. Look at you. Think you're the big savior, fighting for truth, justice and soccer moms. But you still can't lay flesh on a cross without smelling like bacon, can you?"

"Like you're any different".

"Well that's just it. I am, and you know it. You had a soul forced on you as a curse. Make you suffer for all the horrible things you'd done. But me… I fought for my soul. Went through the demon trials, almost did me in a dozen times over, but I kept fighting. 'Cause I knew it was the right thing to do. It's my _destiny_".

"Really? I thought it was because you couldn't help but make notches on your Slayer belt without it".

Spike got a whole lot more brutal after that.

* * *

"You never knew the real me. Too busy trying to see your own reflection… praying there was someone as disgusting as you in the world, so you could stand to live with yourself. Take a good long look, hero. I'm nothing like you!"

"No. You're less. The only reason Buffy chose you was as a poor substitute for me".

Spike stilled completely, his smile serene. "You keep telling yourself that, mate. But I'm still the one she chose". He couldn't help but add, "And the one who knows all the cute little squeaky noises she makes when she's creaming on my tongue".

This time it was Angel who attacked wildly.

* * *

The makeshift stake in Spike's hand drove downward with all his considerable strength, causing Angel to scream in agony. He stood, his face sliding back to human as his grandsire's did the same.

"Probably should have dusted you. But honestly? I don't want to hear _her_ bitch about it".

And Spike turned away, reaching for the gaudy golden cup.

.

.

(THE END!)


End file.
